Fall From Grace
by Olget
Summary: Werewolves, Death Eaters and a powerful curse cause Snape to lose his cover as spy- with dire consequences for both him and Harry. How will they be able to cope? Canon up to OotP. HP/SS
1. Chapter 1

Fall From Grace

Harry reclined in his comfortable, if very worn, armchair. Being at the Burrow after spending just a fortnight in Privet Drive was a blessing. Nevertheless, it did little to quench the gloom surrounding his heart ever since he saw Sirius fall through the veil. With no body to bury and no one to mourn with, the grief was still fresh. Harry sighed and ruffled his hair, making it stick up even more than it did on its own accord.

Molly Weasley bustled in with a tea-tray, closely followed by Ginny, who carried a bowl full of home-made biscuits.

"Harry, dear, have some tea and cookies, it will do your body some good, you're always so skinny-" Harry smiled at her motherly attention and accepted the offered food with a thanks. He smiled at Ron, who sat in front of the fireplace, playing chess against a disgruntled Hermione. Harry watched as Ron's bishop smashed one of Hermione's castles with a vengeful pleasure. Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration and Ron smirked, winking at Harry. He grinned back at his friend, both of them thinking that losing one or two games could only do Hermione some good.

"Oh, this is no use", Hermione snapped finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest in annoyance. "You've won again, haven't you?"

Ron grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "There is a way you could still save yourself," he told her. "But, if you want to give up, you know, just tilt your king-" Hermione huffed indignantly, leaning over the board again. Ron snickered. Harry set his empty tea-cup on the small, overfilled table and stretched.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced. Mrs Weasley looked up from her knitting, looking first at Harry, then throwing a worried look out of the window. "Are you sure, dear? It's already dark out-"

"I'll go with you, Harry," Hermione quickly scrambled up from the floor, straightening out her clothes, looking relieved. "Don't worry, Mrs Weasley, I'll watch out for him."

"Wait, I'm coming, too", Ron joined them hastily, abandoning the chess set. The three of them walked out the door, accompanied by Mrs Weasley's warning of being careful. Harry breathed in the warm night air in relief. The night was quiet around them, soothing Harry's nerves as he walked between his friends along their usual path.

"Face it, Hermione, just would have lost," Ron was still in a good mood. Hermione glowered at him.

"You said there was still a way I could have won!"

"Yeah, I doubt you would've found it, though, you're rubbish at chess."

"I'm not rubbish-"

Harry tuned out their bickering, kicking away a small pebble as the wandered through the field, leaving the crooked house behind them. As much as he loved the Burrow and all it's residents, after three weeks of living there, he was happy to have some peace and quiet at least once a day. Well, more peace and quiet than usual, anyway.

"-whatever. Harry, I forgot to ask,", he turned his attention back to his friends, "Did Remus tell you anything about moving back to Grimmauld Place yesterday? I mean, will you stay there for the rest of the summer? I'm sure your mother would be relieved to finally have the house back to herself." Ron shrugged.

"I don't think she minds, honestly. You know how she loves to fuss over people, and now that Fred and George have got their own place-"

"Yeah, Remus mentioned it," Harry said, losing the pebble he had been kicking in the darkness. "Nothing tangible, though. Just that it's being used as headquarters again. And they haven't been able to get rid of Mrs Black's portrait yet, Lupin said something about Tonks setting her off again the other day." Harry found himself smiling at the thought, though the smile was bitter. Anything connected to the stuffy house reminded Harry of Sirius, trapped, unable to help him until he himself had lured him out, causing his death- He severed that train of thought, looking up at the bright moon to calm himself. Sirius would have wanted him to carry on.

"I'd rather not go back there right now," he confessed as they turned around the bend, now walking parallel to the Burrow, slowly circling the field. The pebbles crunched beneath their feet.

"Yeah," Ron said with a shudder, "I mean, that place gives me the creeps. Imagine, living there with that Kreacher breathing down your neck, that's enough to drive anyone insane, mind you, that's probably why Sirius' mother-"

"Ron," Hermione hissed. Ron snapped his mouth shut and even in the pale moonlight Harry could see his ears reddening.

"Sorry mate, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright,"Harry said wearily. This wasn't the first time they were shirking the issue. "It's okay to say his name, you know."

"Of course," Hermione quickly abided, "but still, Harry, I mean- you must miss him horribly!" Then a look of mortification crossed her face, and she glanced at Ron, who scowled at her.

"Really, guys," Harry started, wondering how to explain that he knew that they were only trying to help, but frankly, their stuttering was becoming quite annoying. Then, a howl pierced the air, stirring the calm of the night.

The three friends froze, looking into the darkness of the surrounding countryside. Another howl sounded, this time from behind them. Harry frowned, wondering if there were still wild wolves in Britain, when Hermione gasped beside him. He glanced down at her, following her petrified gaze. She was staring at the full orb that was emerging from behind a cloud. He stared for a moment, then felt cold fear trickle down his spine. The moon was full.

"Quickly!" Harry pulled Hermione back, and they set into a run. They were still within the wards, so they should be able to reach the house- He cursed as his shoes, oversize as usual, since they had once belonged to Dudley, nearly came off as they stuck in the mud. Using magic now could get them expelled, he knew that all to well. But, he thought wildly as he stumbled again, he preferred expelled to being dead. Suddenly, he sensed movement in front of them and flung a arm out to stop Ron, who in turn grabbed Hermione.

"What?" she spat, panting, wand raised. Harry pointed silently at the Burrow. Against the bright windows, a dark silhouette was moving. It wasn't human, but moved on all fours, as if sniffing the ground.

"What about the wards?" Ron hissed frantically, obviously thinking along the same lines as Harry. "How-"

"Never mind that," Harry whispered back, crouching. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to think of something. The only safe place was the Burrow, but they had to get past the werewolf-

"Let's circle around, there's a grove down there," Ron breathed, pointing to the far side of field. "We'll be less in the open there."

"We'll be outside of the perimeter!" Hermione's voice was trembling slightly, but her wand hand was steady.

"Would you rather fight the wolf?" Harry asked roughly.

"Move fast, then!"

"Come on, back to the road, we're to slow in this mud." The three of them moved again, as silently and quickly as possible. Harry ran, his breath harsh in his throat as he bent over, trying to make himself even smaller. His ears were straining for any sound of pursuit as well as howling. He heard Hermione whimper behind him as she tripped and fell. Harry skidded to a halt and helped her up.

Again, a howl echoed through the air and Harry hoped fervently the werewolf had moved and that there weren't two of the sort. He thought he felt the moment they passed through the wards, like a light tinkle, but maybe he just imagined it. They were almost there when Ron yelled "Watch out!" and Harry was flung forwards, colliding heavily with the ground.

A red light shot over his head and a mad cackle sounded that filled Harry with a combination of dread and murderous loathing. He launched himself forward, sprinting for the covers of the trees, his lungs aching. Ron shoved him forward, Hermione was already there, her face dark in the moonlight.

"Potter-" The taunting voice of Bellatrix Lestrange befouled the warm night air. "Little Harry! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" She laughed again. Harry and his friends retreated deeper into the trees, not daring to light their wands.

"Well, well, well," A cold voice drawled and suddenly, they stumbled onto a clearing. Lucius Malfoy stood there, perfectly composed, his blond hair billowing around him in the light breeze.

Harry didn't waste time. "Stupefy!" Beside him, Ron and Hermione yelled their own spells, which shot at Malfoy like bullets. The Death Eater simply disappeared and apparated a few feet closer, casting his own stunner, which Harry deflected, if only just.

Hermione shrieked behind him and Harry whirled around, seeing her collapse to the ground. Bellatrix had her wand pointed at her, a malicious grin on her face. Harry roared his own curse, but the blast of light was reflected with a flick of her wand. Ron's curse, however, was right behind and the Stunning Spell he shot at her was strong enough to knock her back through the bushes.

Harry's scar seared in pain, and he whirled around, to see Malfoy's pale, elegant finger pressing upon his mark, a smirk on his face. Harry raised his wand, but Malfoy suddenly flew forwards, his head falling back violently. He collapsed at Harry's feet and another dark figure appeared in front of him.

"Move, Potter!" Snape's pale face glowed in the darkness, his wand raised. "Get back to the Burrow, now!" Harry and Ron hauled Hermione up, then started running towards the Burrow, stumbling over roots. Snape hurried along, his wand lighting the path, while Harry's scar burned and suddenly the pain mounted. He stumbled and groaned, screwing up his eyes.

"He's here! Voldemort!" Terror flooded him as Snape cursed and shoved him roughly forwards.

"Get to the house, I'll-"

"Run!" Harry bellowed, as his scar seared in agony, almost splitting his head open. They scampered through the trees, Snape had disappeared somewhere and Harry's head was about to split open- They broke out of the undergrowth and onto a bigger clearing. Harry could see the Burrow's lights shimmering in front of them. If they could only get behind the wards- A crack sounded in front of them and they skidded to a halt as Lucius Malfoy appeared, bloody and dishevelled, but furious.

"_Crucio_!" Ron fell with a cry, convulsing on the ground. Harry raised his wand.

"_Diffindo_!" The ground at Malfoy's feet exploded, but his shield held.

"Pathetic, Potter!" Malfoy hissed. "How you survived this long is beyond me. The Dark Lord is coming and then you and your Mudblood friends will die!" Ron scrambled to his feet, trembling, his wand pointing shakily at Malfoy. Harry didn't take his eyes off Malfoy, thinking fast. They needed to get past him, they were running out of time. He raised his wand.

"Now now, won't the ickle baby want to get into trouble," Bellatrix strode out of the forest and Harry's vision flared red and he snapped, flinging curse after curse at her. Ron and Hermione joined in, desperately trying to blast their way free and into safety. Lucius Malfoy fell to Hermione's Body Bind Curse and Harry jumped, closely evading a Killing Curse. Bellatrix howled in rage, a sinister sound and Hermione fell to the ground again. Ron roared, but Harry could see his hexes were no use and he ducked, singed by the arrow of flames that nearly hit him-

Bellatrix was blasted from her feet from behind, falling over. Harry saw her astonished expression before his own Stunning Spell finally hit and she stilled. Harry whirled around, high on adrenaline and saw Snape running towards them through the trees.

"What are you waiting for! Move, you imbecile-" Harry's scar exploded and he fell to his knees, the roar in his ears blocking all other sounds. Mind-numbing agony cursed through his limbs and he realized dimly he was trembling. He thought he felt Ron and Hermione stir next to him and blinked through the tears in his eyes, willing himself to work through the agony.

Voldemort was advancing towards them, his stick-thin body oddly fitting in between slim boughs. His eyes glinted red even in the moonlight. He raised his wand with a cruel smile and pointed it at the three of them. A net of white light flew towards them, menacing in it's perfection. Hermione's Shield Charm crumbled beneath it's onslaught. Suddenly, it halted in mid-air, as it met an invisible resistance. Voldemort's smirk disappeared and his nostrils flared in anger.

"MOVE, POTTER!" Snape's voice cut through the pain. Harry tried to right himself, Ron pulling his arm, Hermione on his other side- Voldemort shot another curse at Harry, but a dark figure lunged in front of Harry, bringing up a powerful shield. The curse shattered it, but didn't go on.

Voldemort shrieked in anger. "You! _Traitor_!" Snape didn't answer, but flung curse after curse at Voldemort. The Dark Lord deflected them all, eyes wild and livid, their sinister glow apparent to Harry even though his pain. Voldemort cried out a long stream of words in a language Harry didn't recognize and a big blue ball of energy hit Snape, the spy's shield crumbling and folding in like a piece of parchment. The blue light engulfed him, crackling across his skin and Snape collapsed, crying out in agony. Harry raised his wand and cried out, at the same time as Ron and Hermione did.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Impedimenta_!"

"_Diffindo_!"

The three spells combined and a purple light crashed into Voldemort's chest, knocking him back.

"Come on!" Ron roared, pulling Harry to his feet and janking him along. He saw Hermione levitate Snape's limp form off the ground and they ran, Snape gliding beside them. Harry's back tingled as he expected Voldemort's curse to hit him any moment. His breath was loud in his ears, his blood thundering, his heart racing, just a little bit further- Then they were inside the wards and the relief was instantaneous. His head still ached, but it was a tame throb in comparison to the agony he had experienced just minutes ago. Next to him, Hermione moaned in relief and Snape's form collapsed to the ground as she lowered her wand, shaking. The three of them looked at the grove, but it was silent.

"Let's go," Harry said after a few seconds, remembering the werewolves. He grabbed Snape's arm, Ron grabbed the other and together, they dragged him to the front door.

* * *

><p>The chaos in the Burrow was perfect- shouting and a flurry of wands, enchantments sparkling as Mrs Weasley checked the wards around the Burrow, looking worried even though different coloured sparks showed her everything was in place. Snape hung against Harry limply, still unconscious. Harry grunted at the weight and gestured to Ron towards the couch. As they moved towards it, Mrs Weasley stopped them.<p>

"No, no, you can't stay here, it's too dangerous! The wards are still working, but if You-Know-Who is out there-" Molly Weasley paled even further, if possible. "No, go to Grimmauld Place, you'll be safer there and someone needs to help Severus! I've got a portkey here somewhere-"

Mrs Weasley hastily stepped to the mantle, frantically skimming it. She knocked over a photograph with trembling hands, then turned back to them, clutching a small and ugly figurine of a Yorkshire terrier.

"Come on, you lot, all of you!", she commanded, handing the small ornament to Hermione and drawing her wand. Ginny put a trembling finger on it, and Harry and Ron shuffled forward, each of them extending a hand.

"Mum?" Ron frowned as Mrs Weasley made no attempt at touching the portkey.

"I'm waiting for your father, he's on his way home, then we'll join you," she said, glaring at her son. "Now put your hand on that portkey!"

"But-", Ron and Ginny started protesting.

"NOW!" Mrs Weasley said scathingly and Harry hunched his shoulders instinctively. Both Ron and Ginny resumed their hold on the portkey and with a touch of her wand, Mrs Weasley activated it. Harry felt the familiar jerk and held on to his dear life, hoping not to lose his potions master along the way. Then his feet hit the pavement of Grimmauld Place's doorstep and he staggered, nearly falling down the steps.

"Quickly," Hermione said and Ginny pushed the door open. They stumbled inside and Harry almost fell as Ron lost his grip on Professor Snape, who still seemed unaware of his surroundings.

"Sorry, sorry," Ron hurriedly slid Snape's arm back around his shoulders and heaved.

"Ginny?" Remus strode towards them through the hallway, wand drawn. "What-" Then he saw Hermione and the two boys, shouldering their burden. He paled.

"What happened?" He flicked his wand and Harry felt the weight lift from his shoulders as Snape's body hung limply in the air, suspended by Lupin's magic. His eyes seemed slightly open, but unfocused, as his head lolled. Harry felt goosebumps erupt on his arms. Whatever Voldemort's curse had done to Snape, it had obviously wreaked havoc.

He listened as Hermione recounted the nights happenings and how Snape had saved them from Voldemort. When she reached the part of Voldemort cursing Snape, they entered the kitchen. With another wave of his wand, he cleared the kitchen table and set Snape's body atop it. Snape groaned lightly and Harry saw his hands were starting to tremble lightly.

"What was it?" Hermione whispered, hand in front of her mouth, a terrified expression on her face. She was staring at Snape. Lupin pulled gently at the man's eyelids, lifting them and examining the pupils with his wand. Snape's tremors were increasing and now his whole body was trembling, as though he was very cold.

"I don't know," Lupin confessed, but the concern on his friend's face scared Harry. "Ron, use the fireplace, call Dumbledore!" Ron skidded off towards the sitting room. Harry came closer as Lupin checked Snape's pulse, one eye on his wristwatch.

"What's happening to him?" Harry asked, as Snape tossed his head, eyes opening and closing again at irregular intervals. Lupin took a moment to finish counting, then cursed under his breath.

"Remus?" Harry asked again, his own heart thumping in his chest, adrenaline still surging through his veins. This couldn't be good.

"I don't know, Harry, it looks like Severus' body is fighting the curse, but I don't know what it is, I can't counter it, maybe if one of you can remember the incantation-"

With a loud gasp, Snape's body convulsed and he rolled off the table, collapsing onto the floor. Before any of them had a chance to do more than back away in shock, Snape started forward in direction of the door, nearly ramming into the kitchen cupboard as he tried to straighten up.

"Severus!" Lupin cried, pointing his wand at him, unsure of what to do. "Severus, what are you-"

Snape staggered against the door frame, and Harry saw his pale hands clutching at the door, knuckles white. His pale face was contorted in a hateful snarl as his body leaned forward, out into the hallway. With a feral cry, Snape fell forwards, stumbling and tottering against the walls, and Harry realised he was heading for the door.

"No!", he yelled, lunging after him. He grabbed hold of one of the flailing arms and was dragged forward, his heels digging into the carpet. He was barely aware of the surprise he felt at the skinny man's strength, when a red blast hit him.

He fell to the ground, toppling onto Snape, but barely had the chance to stop moving before he felt a warmth trickling back into him at Remus' command. He staggered up, letting Hermione help him, then shakily looked down at the stunned man.

"What the hell-" Harry cleared his voice, hoping no one noticed how faint it was, "was that?"

He looked at Lupin, who still had his wand pointed at Snape, clearly at loss for words. Ginny was peaking from behind his back, dismay on her face. Hermione put a comforting hand on Harry's arm, and he felt his nerves calm slightly at the touch.

"I think he was trying to get to Voldemort", she said, her voice higher than usual. She cleared her throat nervously, then continued with renewed vigour. "He must've known we'll escape. He didn't want to kill Snape, he wanted him to return to him." She looked at them. "Think about it! Snape knows all the secrets of the order, if Voldemort gets his hands on him-"

"He'll torture it out of him," Harry amended quietly. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Ginny? Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded panicked as he called for them. He stuck his head in the hallway, eyes wide as he took in the crumpled figure on the floor. "Blimey, what happened?"

"Lets get him off the floor first," Remus ordered, ushering them back into the kitchen. He levitated Snape's body back onto the table, but this time, ropes appeared, winding themselves around Snape's ankles and wrists and fastening them to the table legs.

"What did Dumbledore say?" Lupin asked. Ron, who had been staring at Snape's restraints, shook himself and looked at Remus. "Uh, he said he's on his way. Said he'll be here in few minutes. Will one of you finally tell me what happened?"

"It seems Voldemort enchanted Snape to come back to him", Lupin informed Ron. "He can't stop himself, though I dare say he'll be trying his hardest."

Ron swore. "If You-Know-Who catches him-" He was interrupted by Ginny, who pointed at Snape's arm. "Look!" Harry followed her gaze and saw the material of Snape's tunic cling damply to his arm. Where it rested on the table, a small puddle of blood has formed. Lupin quickly dashed to his side, ripping the fabric apart. Snape's Dark Mark was prominent, the surrounding skin oozing blood and swollen, the dark shape all but pulsing against Snape's skin. Harry could have sword the snake was moving.

Remus swore, then unceremoniously grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it around the Mark, as if to stop Snape bleeding all over the table. Harry felt a giddy urge to laugh as he thought that they would have to clear the table before breakfast next morning and wondered if he was going into shock.

"Remus!" Harry felt his knees go weak with relief as he heard the headmaster's concerned voice. "I came as quickly as I could, what happened, Ron said something about an attack-" Dumbledore entered the kitchen and froze as his gaze fell upon the motionless body on the table.

"Remus, what is this?" Dumbledore's voice was hard and severe, not a bit of twinkle in his eyes. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and advanced towards the table.

"He was attacked, Albus, by Voldemort himself. He's cursed," Remus clarified, and once more Harry listened to the events of the evening being narrated. Dumbledore listened without comment, but slowly passed his wand over Snape's body. He reminded Harry of airport security searching for metal objects.

Finally, when Lupin stopped talking, Dumbledore finished his scans and lay his hand on Snape's forehead. Now his face was creased with worried lines, and Harry was surprised how much the headmaster seemed to care for his least favourite teacher. Oh, Harry knew he was, or rather had been, their most valued spy and he grudgingly had to admit his bravery. But the thought that someone might care for Snape as a person had never occurred to him. Unbidden, the sight of Snape flinging himself in front of Ron, Hermione and himself, came to his mind. Uneasily, he shifted his weight.

"Where is Professor Snape's wand?" He asked, looking at the students in turn.

"I've got it, sir," Harry said quickly, and handed Dumbledore the wand he had pocketed. Dumbledore thanked him and tucked it away, somewhere into the depths of his robes.

"Will he be alright, Professor?" Ginny asked, her voice timid in the kitchen. Dumbledore had started to carefully unwrap the makeshift bandage around Snape's arm and was carefully examining the irritated skin.

"I don't know yet, Miss Weasley," he answered kindly, if seriously. "I have not yet determined the type of curse Professor Snape has been afflicted with; I suspect it is some kind of bonding spell, which is forcing Professor Snape to seek out Voldemort. However, some more research is required to determine the true nature of the spell."

"We will help," Hermione said quickly and Ron surprised Harry by nodding vigorously. "I mean, sir, if there is something we can do, there is a large library here and after all, Professor Snape was trying to protect us-" It occurred to Harry that he was not the only one reliving the attack.

"Yes, Professor, sir," he hurried to Hermione's aid, "if there is anything we can do to help, some research, as you say-"

Professor Dumbledore smiled for the first time that evening, and it made Harry feel better immediately. "I'm sure you can. In fact, you might be the only ones with enough time on your hands- Severus was an important source of information. Now that he's incapacitated, we will have to make due without him. All the other members are busy as it is- do you think you are capable of fending for yourself here, for a while?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Lupin was faster. "Albus, I'm sure I can-"

"Remus, you have other duties to attend to, you know that," Dumbledore gently told him, silencing his offer.

"We'll be alright, Professor, Remus", Hermione jumped in. "I'm sure we can manage to feed ourselves for a few weeks."

"Besides, won't other order members be dropping in and out from time to time?", Ron inquired. "And my Mum wouldn't mind cooking dinner for us and sending it over."

Harry said nothing. He honestly didn't want to stay in Grimmauld Place with all it's haunted memories. But as he gazed onto the motionless figure on the table, he knew he owed it to the man.

"We'll do it, Professor," he said softly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly for a moment, then he resumed his serious manner.

"Mrs Granger, I recommend you start with certain books-", he flicked his wand, and a piece of parchment appeared out of thin air. "Whatever books you can't find in the library will be sent here, just tell me which ones are missing. Also, I'd like to remind the three of you that time is of essence-Professor Snape is currently stunned, but we can't keep him this way for long. I will do some of my own research, and we will reconvene tomorrow at this time." He checked his watch.

"Find out what you can until then."

The three of them nodded, and Dumbledore bid them farewell. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, stumped. In the morning, he had thought it would be a perfectly normal day. Now, they were in charge of saving his potions master from a rather violent and painful death. For a moment, no one said anything, then Hermione shook herself, straightened the parchment, and scanned the titles.

"Right," she said, assuming that voice of command that always reminded Harry of study sessions, "come on, Harry, Ron, let's see which books we have here, then we can divide them amongst ourselves and see what we can find."

"I'll help," Remus said, with a small smile, "I have a spare day. Dumbledore won't mind, and I'd rather not leave you alone with him right now. I'll just take care of Severus, meet you in the library."

* * *

><p>When Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to the kitchen, laden with books, Snape was gone. Harry assumed Lupin put him into one of the upstairs bedrooms- with proper restraints, he hoped. He pulled the nearest book towards him, <em>How To Chain A Wizard, <em>by Fredrick Toadsborough, and settled down. It was going to be a long night.

Around eleven o'clock, a flustered Molly and Arthur Weasley appeared in kitchen and, after many explanations, joined the self-appointed research group.

At midnight, Harry took a bathroom break and sought out Snape's room. He gazed at the unconscious man, noticing that his bandage was bled through. He wondered briefly if it hurt, and if Snape could feel it. He left shortly after, unnerved by the way the complete stillness of Snape's expression somehow made him seem so- vulnerable.

At five in the morning, Harry gave up, rubbing his eyes. He knew he would be no use to anyone if he didn't get some sleep now. He bid Hermione good night, who refused to give up her books, and dragged himself to the room he shared with Ron. He didn't bother to change, just pulled off his shoes, jeans and jacket, and fell asleep before he hit the covers.

He woke just a few hours later, feeling as though a lorry had ran him over. Somehow, it was still an improvement. He glanced over to the bunk bed next to him. Ron was snoring softly into his pillows. On the bed on the far side, a bushy brown head indicated that it was occupied by Hermione. Knowing that even Hermione had at some point succumbed to sleep made Harry feel less guilty about abandoning his search yesterday. At last he would be able to continue now. As quietly as he could, he dressed and went down into the kitchen, were Lupin was already, or maybe still, awake and reading.

"Morning," Harry yawned and helped himself to some coffee. "Anything new? How's the greasy git?"

"There has been no change", Lupin remarked lightly, ignoring Harry's insult. " Here," he handed him another book. Harry stifled a groan and sat himself down.

Ron and Hermione joined them afterwards, both looking as exhausted as Harry felt.

"This is worse than studying for our O.W.L.s," Ron grumbled, helping himself to some food. "If that git hadn't gotten himself cursed-"

"He saved us from You-Know-Who," Hermione reminded him.

Ron scowled. "Well, at least he could have had the decency to kill him!"

"Ron!"

Harry flipped a page, scanning it. There was nothing useful in this book, either. And time was running out.

Around midday, even Hermione's nerves were frayed and her eyes bloodshot from sorting through so many books.

"Oh, this is no use!" She rubbed her eyes tiredly. Harry leaned back, massaging his temples. He felt a massive headache coming on, something he really had no use for right now. Lupin had renewed the stunning spell on Snape, attempting to let him eat or drink something before putting him under again. However, after a few gulps of water, the curse had struck again, and Snape had been halfway down the stairs before Lupin had been able to restrain him. He had bruises to show for it. Harry was deeply grateful that Snape didn't have his wand on him; otherwise, there would have been no stopping him.

"Lets see what we've got," Ron decided, taking charge for a moment. Harry sighed and grabbed his notes, scribblings of spells and possible hints to what particular spell Voldemort might have used.

"It's not just a normal binding spell," Hermione said tiredly, her hands still rubbing her eyes. "It's somehow connected to the Dark Mark, it must must be."

"And it's very strong," Harry added. He gestured at the pile of books. "Most of these spells aren't strong enough to bind someone's will for such a long period of time, and not to this degree. Snape couldn't even talk any more."

"Alright, so an abnormally strong bonding spell, amplified by the Dark Mark," Ron concluded, ruffling his red hair until it was about as untidy as Harry's. "What else?"

"The really strong stuff needs some kind of sacrifice, some sort of connection to the victim," Hermione said, ruffling through her notes. "Blood, hair, toenails- like with the Polyjuice Potion! Maybe that's what the Dark Mark is for? I doubt You-Know-Who has a supply of bodily fluids somewhere, with bits of each of his Death Eaters-"

Harry pulled a face at the imagery, and Ron said, "Gross, Hermione!" Hermione ignored them both.

"So, lets say that's what the Dark Mark is for. Then we are dealing with a high scale bonding spell, and we can forget about these low-level ones." She shoved a pile of her notes aside.

"Dark bonding spells are complicated," Remus mused, stroking his stubble. "Assuming the Dark Lord didn't have time to prepare, that he didn't anticipate Severus' betrayal-"

"He didn't," Harry assured him. "He was completely freaked out."

"Well, he didn't have time to prepare any ritual, he had to think on feet, he had no time, but he had to make sure that Severus returned to him-" Remus was riffling through his own notes. "Maybe it wasn't a bonding spell per se, but rather a calling spell?" He smoothed out a piece of paper. "Here, there is something called the Leashing Spell-" Remus grabbed a book and ruffled through the pages, nearly banging his head with Hermione as she leaned it to read the book as well. He found the paragraph and read silently, his lips moving slightly, while Hermione's brown furrowed in concentration, neck craned at such an impossible angle that Harry wondered how she managed it.

"But look," she suddenly said,"it doesn't say that the victim is incapable of any speech or wilful action, in fact, is say _"-causes the cursed to return to their Master, kicking and screaming, often hexing anyone in near proximity. However, the cursed has but no choice, and will eventually succumb to his fate or kill himself." _She looked at Lupin. "That doesn't sound like Snape. He didn't even seem aware of what he was doing, much less kicking and screaming."

"Thank Merlin for that," Ron muttered so lowly that only Harry could hear.

"I don't know about that, Hermione," Harry objected. "He clung to that door frame pretty hard yesterday. Looked like he didn't want to let go."

"Maybe it's the Dark Mark," Lupin added, tracing another paragraph with his finger. "Maybe it strengthens the spell somehow, because Severus is already bonded with Voldemort."

"There are dozens of those spells, though," Ron objected. "And most of them can't be broken by anything but the Master's choice or the victim's death. Not that I usually would object to killing Snape, but under these circumstances..."

"They couldn't be cast on anyone, though," Harry said quickly, scanning his own notes. Something had stuck in his head, just a footnote in one of the many tomes... "Here! I read somewhere that _naught but deep magic shall shield one from the chains of slavery_." He glanced back up. "I figured they meant magic like my Mum used on me, when she sacrificed herself for me. Voldemort couldn't use that spell on me. Also, it said that it isn't that easy to cast- most magicians could fight it off before it took complete hold of them. Anyone-" Harry squinted back at his notes, "_strong of body and strong of mind would prevail against the assault of the unholy." _You can say a lot about Snape, but I don't think he is weak."

"He's a pig-headed git, yeah," Ron agreed. "The Dark Mark again?"

"Maybe..." Remus looked thoughtful. "But we still don't know how it would help Professor Snape. We can't keep him like this until we defeat Voldemort. He'll either die, or start throwing off the enchantments we put on him. And if he ever makes it to Voldemort, we will all be in grave danger."

"And Snape will be dead," Hermione said absent mindedly, picking at her lower lip as she scanned another book.

"How about that deep magic?" Harry insisted, unwilling to let the issue rest. "Apart from jumping in front of a killing curse for Snape, isn't there any way we could, I don't know, shield him or something?" He looked at Ron for assistance, who simply shrugged.

"I doubt that, Harry," Lupin said gently, leaning slightly forward. "Deep magic controls life and death. Each time a wizard is born it manifests itself. Or a muggle," he added, glancing at Hermione, who was listening with rapt attention. "When someone dies and is buried, we draw upon the deep magic for strength and to guide us. Marriage calls it forth as well, and it plays a certain role where procreation is concerned." Lupin smiled wryly as the tips or Ron's ears turned crimson. He turned towards Harry. "The spells resulting out of a mother's sacrifice are most certainly the work of deep magic, Harry, you're right. Which is the only reason you're safe with your relatives. But I can't see how we could use this to our advantage now."

Harry nodded. Hermione sighed and returned to her books. They worked in silence.

* * *

><p>In the late afternoon, they were all exhausted, Remus looking as he always did after a full moon. They had gone through all the books, and gotten nowhere. Molly Weasley appeared just then and ordered them out of the kitchen, firmly insisting on them all getting a shower before the headmaster arrived, while she would cook dinner. Frankly, Harry was immensely grateful for the forced stop to their research- he felt as though he never wanted to read another book on spells again. Which was unfortunate, since he might have two more years in school ahead. Providing he survived them, of course.<p>

Hermione showered first, while the boys collapsed in their room, not saying a word to one another. The headache Harry had foreseen had actually occurred. Trelawney would be proud of him, he thought to himself, as he massaged his temples. He dozed off and was shaken away be a wet-haired Ron so that he could take his turn in the shower.

When he returned, rubbing his hair dry, Hermione had joined Ron in their room, and was sitting on Harry's bed. He sat down next to her, and noticed that Mrs Weasley must have brought them their things from the Burrow. Hedwig's empty cage stood at the end of his bed. Still, none of them spoke.

Hermione flopped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, chewing on her lips. Harry glanced at Ron; he looked as worried as Harry felt.

"Who'd you think will win the Cup this year?" Ron suddenly asked. "Think the other teams are up for it? Lot's of Ravenclaws are leaving, half their team will be completely new, that's bound to be bad for them-"

Harry happily jumped to the occasion to talk about something else than the fact that they've accomplished nothing today and chatted about Quidditch, dinner and lessons they might have this year. While they were discussing wherever or not Trelawney would yet again scare the new Divination students with predicting somebody's death and if so, who it would be, Hermione stood up and started pacing at the far end of the room. Unwilling to focus their minds on more morose topics, Harry and Ron ignored her.

"Think about it, Harry," Ron insisted, his eyes gleaming. "If we could convince Fred and George to give us a whole batch of Puking Pastils for free, we could ask Dobby to chug them into teachers' pumpkin juice when no one is watching. Just imagine McGonagall-"

Hermione gasped, interrupting Ron. She wheeled around, away from the window and turned to stare at Harry, then at Ron. For a minute, she looked shell-shocked- then she resumed pacing at the fastest pace yet, murmuring quietly to herself.

Harry caught Ron's eye, alarmed. He didn't dare comment, in case he disturbed Hermione's evidently precarious thinking process. He saw Ron open his mouth, just before Hermione swivelled on the spot again and swished from the room. Ron closed his mouth again, before staring clueless at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno, we'll just have to see-" Just then, Mrs Weasley called them to dinner.

Ron and Harry hurried downstairs, famished. After explaining that Hermione might be a while, they seated themselves at the table and dug in. Mrs Weasley watched them fondly, then announced that the headmaster would be arriving within the hour.

Hermione joined them shortly afterwards, carrying a book and offering no word of explanation for her earlier behaviour. She propped it against her glass and continued reading, stew dribbling down her chin. Harry squinted at the book cover: _History of Wizard Wedding Customs._

Harry glanced at Ron, flabbergasted. "Hermione, why-"

"Tell you later, Harry," Hermione tartly cut him short, not even looking away from her book. Harry refrained from asking again and finished his meal in silence.

As soon as they were all sated, the three of them thanked Mrs Weasley warmly for the dinner, then dashed upstairs. No sooner had Harry shut their bedroom door behind them, Ron rounded on Hermione. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Deep magic," Hermione answered simply. Ron blinked and visibly deflated. "What?"

"Deep magic," Hermione said again, then resumed her earlier pacing track. She didn't look at Harry, and for some reason, that unsettled him.

"Yeah, I got that the first time around," Ron said exasperatedly. "What about it? Lupin said it was no use-"

"I was thinking," Hermione interrupted him, "about what Harry said, and I think you're right, Harry," she looked up at him. "I think that this is a bonding spell, or a leashing spell or whatever, and that the Dark Mark is making it much stronger. And I think that, if the books are right, only deep magic can save Snape."

"Yeah, or we kill him," Ron muttered, then said loudly, "yeah, we know all that. But how does that help us? Lupin said deep magic affects things like death, birth, marriage-"

"Exactly," Hermione deadpanned. "Marriage." Ron looked incredulous.

"So what, you want to marry Snape off?" Harry asked, not seeing where Hermione was going with this. "You think Voldemort won't kill and torture Snape if he's betrothed to him first?" Ron sniggered.

"No, Harry," Hermione said quietly and finally sat down, next to Ron. She was staring at her hands.

"I'm thinking that if he married someone who Voldemort couldn't touch, who was warded against these spells, then that protection would extend towards that person's- spouse." She hesitated at the last word.

Harry stared at her, confused and frustrated. Then Ron's brow unfurrowed and he cringed away from Hermione in horror. Harry opened his mouth to ask what the hell they were going on about when it hit him. Bloody hell. Voldemort couldn't touch him because of his mother's sacrifice. So if he married Snape- he wanted to say something, but only a croak came out. His throat seemed to have clogged up.

"That's the best you can come up with?" Ron said faintly. He had turned pale under all his freckles. "Blimey, we might just as well hand Harry over to You-Know-Who, because if Snape hears this, he's gonna kill Harry himself."

Hermione looked at Harry, a desperate and pained look on her face. "I can't think of another way. I'm not sure this would even work, I-" She gulped and steadied herself. "I won't tell," she said quietly. "I won't say a thing if you don't want me to."

Harry finally found his voice. "Is it even _allowed_? I mean, he's a bloke!"

Ron looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Hermione smiled softly. "In the muggle world, two men aren't allowed to get married in most countries," she explained.

Ron's expression grew incredulous. "_Why?_"

"Because people are stupid and prejudiced and think that marriage is all about having kids," Hermione explained. "Look, Harry-"

"I still don't get it," Ron said, looking confused again. "Where's the problem with two guys-"

"Two muggle men can't have biological kids, Ron." Hermione sighed. "No, neither can two women, they would have to adopt," she added, anticipating his next question. Ron nodded in comprehension.

"And two wizards _can?_", Harry felt his voice rise, as panic settled in his stomach. Normally, he would have found this topic fascinating, but in this context this kind of information proved lethal.

"Sure," Ron answered, sounding surprised. "Hannah Abott has two dads and a surrogate Mum." He shrugged. "I heard her bragging about how it was better 'cause she got more gifts for her birthday."

"But, how-"

"I'll explain later," Hermione interrupted him impatiently. "But I don't think you'll have to worry about that right now." She scooted closer to Harry, their knees nearly touching.

"Look: I think that if you married Snape, your protective wards might extend to him and break Voldemort's hold on him. It could save his life. If it doesn't work- well, then I doubt you'll have to worry about kids." She smiled in an attempt of dark humour. Somehow, Harry couldn't return the smile.

"And if it does work?" he asked faintly.

"Well, then you'd be married, Snape would live and make your life a living hell. And when someone finally defeats Voldemort, then you divorce him. Simple as that."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ron interrupted them. "Divorce? Simple?" Harry and Hermione looked him nonplussed. Ron sighed. "This is another Muggle thing, right? People can just get married and divorced as often as they like in the muggle world?"

Harry and Hermione nodded silently. Ron sighed. "Well mate, it won't be that easy. See, if you split up with your spouse you'll be- you know, used goods." Ron grimaced.

"You don't really mean to tell me that the boys in Hogwarts are all wearing chastity belts and saving themselves for their wedding night-" Hermione began in a scathing tone.

"No, of course not!" Ron's ears went pink again. "This isn't about- being chaste, or, or abstinent." Now his ears were crimson. "It's about, you know, commitment." He squirmed under Harry's and Hermione's gaze.

"It's like, you know, official, that you can't hold a relationship together. It's like- you know!" He said desperately. "Like you're such a jerk even the person you decided to marry wouldn't have you!"

"So, it makes you potentially less attractive," Hermione slowly said. Ron nodded vigorously. "Yeah, exactly!"

"But it's legal to remarry?" Harry inquired.

"Yeah, sure, the Ministry doesn't care how many husbands or wives you had. And honestly, Harry, I think most girls would have you anyway, divorce or not. You know, the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, rubbing his scar. He let his hand fall in his lap.

"So you guys really think I should go and propose to Snape?", he demanded, the notion sounding ridiculous even with an huge amount of sarcasm.

"I don't think you should do anything you don't want to, Harry," Hermione said sensibly.

"Of course he doesn't want to marry Snape, who would?" Ron looked at Hermione as though she were mad. "And Harry likes girls better, don't you, Harry?"

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said hesitantly. "I mean, I've never really thought about it, to be honest." Now he felt his neck turning hot.

Ron shrugged. "Well, even if you like blokes, I doubt Snape is your type. And before this goes any further, Harry, you're my best mate, but that's all we'll ever be, sorry."

Harry found himself laughing weakly; when had his life turned this mad again. "Ron, I'm not- I don't- I mean, I know, I've never-" Despite the desperate situation, Ron and Hermione burst into laughter at Harry's helpless stutters.

"Don't worry mate," Ron chortled, slapping his back. "I was joking." Hermione patted his knee, wiping away tears of laughter. Harry joined into their hilarity, although he felt extremely self-conscious.

"Ron! Hermione!, Harry! The headmaster has arrived!"

Immediately, they sobered. "Coming!" Ron bellowed downstairs, then turned back towards Harry.

"It's your choice, mate." He looked at Harry seriously.

"It is, Harry," Hermione insisted. "We won't tell, I mean, we don't even know if this would work. But either way, it's you decision."

"Ron!"

"I said, COMING!" Ron stood up, and the other two quickly followed. "Let's go, before Mum throws a fit. She hates to keep guests waiting."

The hurried down into the kitchen, where Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Dumbledore were waiting for them. The old wizard looked tired, but still greeted them with a smile, grasping a steaming teacup.

"Ah, there you are. Come on, chop chop, grab some tea and we can get started. "

Harry sat mostly in silence, listening to first Lupin, then Hermione report their findings. True to her word, she didn't mention deep magic or marriage.

Dumbledore looked worried. "Unfortunately, that's about as far as I've come. It's impossible to determine the exact nature of the spell after it has been cast and even so, most can't be lifted easily. There is one counter-spell I wanted to try, but I doubt it'll work." He heaved a sigh, whole wait-length beard rising and falling with his chest. "Come on then, maybe we'll get lucky."

Dumbledore led the procession upstairs, Lupin at his heels, followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione, Mr and Mrs Weasley bringing up the rear. They filed into Snape's small bedroom, squashing themselves behind Dumbledore. The headmaster raised his wand, and thick ropes curled themselves around Snape's trunk, binding him completely to the bed, rendering him immobile. Only then Dumbledore pointed his wand at Snape's chest and murmured "Enervate."

With a deep breath, Snape came back to life. However, his head shifted, but remained turned towards the wall, gaze unfocused.

"Severus?" Dumbledore said gently, approaching the bed. "Can you hear me?"

The man didn't show any sign of recognition, twitching beneath the ropes. Then, suddenly, he reared up, or tried to, uttering snarls and gasps of pain as he struggled against the ropes. Still, his eyes weren't looking at the ceiling, or the bed, or any of the onlookers, but remained blank, as though blind. As the man's thrashing grew wilder, Dumbledore shook his head silently and once again, pointed his wand at Snape, muttering an incantation under his breath.

A yellow gas streamed out of the tip of Dumbledore's wand, engulfing Snape. The struggles ceased and the man lay still. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Snape screeched, an unearthly sound of agony, as he ripped against his bounds, harder then before. Harry screwed his eyes against the man's howl of pain and felt the floor vibrate as the bed shook from the force of Snape's tremors.

Dumbledore ended the spell hastily, and the yellow smoke dissolved in an instant. Snape's cries ceased, and he started sobbing softly. Harry realized with a pang that Snape was still unconscious; his head lolled towards them, eyes unfocused and half open, drops of sweat on his forehead, dark strands of hair plastered to his face. With a moan, Snape twisted again, his breath hitching and tears dripping from his eyes. And then, when Harry thought it couldn't get any worse, Snape resumed his fight against the cords, heaving up again and again, straining to get loose. Harry was about to turn around, he couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for Snape's condition any longer, when Dumbledore mercifully stunned Snape again. Snape lay motionless again, almost peaceful.

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked vaguely green, then at Hermione, who had covered her mouth in horror and had tears streaming down her face. His gaze finally rested on Dumbledore; the old man's shoulders hunched as he looked at Snape with such compassion and love that Harry felt his heart clench.

He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. "Professor." He exhaled and opened his eyes again, to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

"Yes, Harry?" The man had a defeated look about him. Harry swallowed and forced his fists to unclench at his side. He threw one final glance at Ron and Hermione, who looked back at him with admiration and pity. He squared his shoulders.

"I- We have an idea."

* * *

><p>They were back in the kitchen, another hot cup of tea in front of Harry. He observed the fumes rising from the hot beverage. He waited for the inevitable reaction. Either they were going to tell him that he was crazy, that it wouldn't work, or that he would soon be married. He honestly couldn't tell which answer he dreaded more. Bracing himself, he looked up again, reading the expressions on the other people's faces. Ron and Hermione looked concerned, Mr and Mrs Weasley had the vague look of someone clubbed over the head with something heavy. Lupin simply looked shocked and Dumbledore- Harry's heart sank. Dumbledore looked hopeful.<p>

"Would it work?" Hermione asked, and Harry knew she felt responsible. As she well should, a petty part of him thought, since it was her bloody bad idea.

"Well, I think we better ask," Dumbledore said brightly. When Hermione stared at him, uncomprehending, Dumbledore smiled lightly. "Professor Snape would like to have some say in this, don't you think?"

"Wait a minute!" Remus rose from his chair, his face thunderous. "You're not seriously considering this, are you?"

"Remus, if Harry is willing-"

"He's just a boy!" Lupin snarled and Harry shrank back despite his indignation. At times like this, he could easily believe there was a beast inside Lupin, just waiting to break out. "He doesn't know what he's talking about! And Snape, of all people! He hates Harry, hated his whole family, hated James, hated Sirius-"

"He didn't hate Lily," Dumbledore pointed out quietly, yet firmly.

And just like that, Lupin deflated, his rage draining away. He simply looked defeated. "Please, Albus," he whispered. "Don't do this. Don't take this from Harry. He's given enough, he'll give even more, just-"

"Remus," Harry interrupted, tired of being talked about although he was in the same room. "Remus, he saved my life. Ron's and Hermione's, too. You've seen him up there. How could I leave him? Is that what you want, for me to let him die? Do you think that's what my parents would have wanted, what Sirius would have wanted?"

A sad smile tugged at Lupin's lips. "Sirius would _not _have wanted you to marry Snape, I can promise you that."

Harry chortled as he imagined Sirius face if he knew. "No, he's probably rotating in circles in his grave." Or he would have, if he had a grave. "Look, the facts are: Snape saved my life, many times. Now he's dying, or worse and I can save him."

"But Harry, think of what you're giving up! This is your life, your happiness!"

"What life?", Harry asked dryly. "My life consists of fighting Voldemort. And it will until one of us is dead."

Lupin shook his head in denial. "It shouldn't be like this", he whispered hoarsely. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"It's my decision, Remus," Harry said as gently as he could, wondering at what point exactly he had turned an advocate for marrying Snape. Probably somewhere around the time the man had thrown himself in front of Lord Voldemort to protect him and his friends. Or maybe when he screamed in pain when Dumbledore tried to heal him. "And I've made my choice."

He still felt sick to his stomach. He felt a hand slip into his, and saw Hermione give him an encouraging smile. He squeezed lightly, letting her know the support was appreciated.

"Your decision, and Severus'", Dumbledore gently reminded him.

"Of course, sir," Harry quickly abided, though privately, he couldn't think that even Snape hated him enough to rather stay in his state than marry him. Although, if death was an option-

"How are you going to ask him?", Hermione inquired, curiosity getting the better of her. Harry hadn't thought of that; Snape wasn't exactly responsive at the moment. How was he supposed to marry someone who wasn't even aware of, of- well, anything!

"Simple, with this here," Dumbledore said, as he stood and removed a small vial from his robes, filled with blue liquid. "Out of Professor Snape's private store, ironically. This potion will push back any enchantment raging in his body for some time. Hopefully he will be lucid enough then to respond. Unfortunately, even in small dosages, the liquid is toxic. If I were to give him more than, oh, let's say this vial, his liver would fail in a few hours. Now, if you will excuse me, I think it's best if I deliver your proposal myself, Harry."

Harry nodded, his urge to vomit stronger than ever. He clamped down on Hermione's hand unintentionally, then released her at her gasp of pain, apologizing quietly.

"Oh, Harry!" A tearful Molly Weasley gathered him into her arms, catching him by surprise. Her returned the hug awkwardly as Arthur Weasley patted his back sympathetically, while his wife mumbled something intelligible into his collar. Finally, she let go of him, sniffing and wiping away her tears.

"You're such a brave man, Harry, I'm proud of you," she sniffed.

"Yeah, you are, mate," Ron added, clasping Harry's shoulder as he sat down shakily. "Propose marriage to Severus Snape- Now facing down You-Know-Who doesn't seem all that bad, eh?"

Harry gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing, you know." His weak attempt at some bravado was slightly disturbed by the fact that he had to clamp his hands hard around his teacup to stop them from trembling.

"We'll get through this," Hermione promised quietly, putting a hand on his knee. "Together."

"Yeah, mate. We'll even visit you in the evil git's lair. We'll face this together." Ron grinned.

Harry didn't have it in him to respond, but still felt heartened by their words. Even though it wasn't them who would soon be married to the most evil teacher Hogwarts had to offer. But maybe he would decline? Maybe he hated Harry enough to turn him down? A small bubble of hope grew in his chest, but he crushed it quickly. No, who was he kidding. Snape could have killed himself long ago if he wanted to die. And if he wanted to live, this was his only chance.

* * *

><p>Severus dimly felt the tugging resume. Whenever he felt even remotely awake, the pain was unbearable. He had to go, he had to leave, he could feel his intestines trying to rip from his body as he struggled to follow the call. Faintly, Severus recalled that this was bad, that listening to the spell would only result in more pain and death, that he should be fighting it-<p>

Then, mercifully cool liquid burned down his throat, lifting the fog surrounding his thoughts. Severus Snape sighed in relief, then cringed as the cool feeling became almost unbearably cold. The bonds holding him disappeared, and Snape found himself staring at the familiar face of Albus Dumbledore.

"_Libera limitans_?", he guessed quietly as he spotted the vial clenched in Dumbledore's hand.

"Correct, my boy," Albus proclaimed with irritating cheer. He helped Severus lean himself against the headboard. Severus muscle's all cramped and screamed in protest and he could feel bile rise in his throat as the spell fought the potion for the control over his body. He closed his eyes for a moment to suppress the nausea.

When he opened it again, Dumbledore handed him a glass of cool water. Severus accepted gratefully. "I didn't know," he said quietly, looking at his glass. "The Dark Lord only told me tonight, we moved at once, I had no time to-"

"It's alright, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted him gently. "You couldn't have anticipated this. The Dark Lord has plans of his own and it was fortunate enough that you were there when you were. You save the student's life." Silence fell as Severus took another small gulp of water.

"Have you come to say good-bye?" Severus finally asked, resting the glass of water in his lap. If the headmaster had to result to his potions, then whatever compulsion spell the Dark Lord had cast could not be reversed. Severus fought the feeling of dread, trying to focus on the vague sense of relief. So this was how it ended. At least it would not be at the hand of an enemy, but on his own terms. Severus told himself he wasn't afraid. He didn't fear death with that foolish panic that had gripped the Dark Lord. He would go with all the semblance of peace he could muster.

"Good-bye?," Albus chuckled. Severus scowled; he didn't consider his own death a laughing matter.

"No, my friend, quite the contrary, I'm here as a- well, let's just call me an emissary, shall we." His blue eyes twinkled and Severus felt annoyance well up inside him.

"Then tell me what the hell your message is!" Another cramp caused him to grimace. "Can you get rid of this spell, or will you be my executioner?" He had no patience for tact or finesse.

"We couldn't find a way to lift the spell", Dumbledore finally admitted, transfiguring the broken chair next to Severus' bed into a squashy armchair. "But we did find a solution to nullify it's effects. However, it's quite- unusual."

"Unusual how?" Severus asked, adjusting his position. He winced.

"Well, it seems the only counter against this type of spell, short of Voldemort himself lifting it, must come from the deep magic itself."

"Deep magic?", Severus blinked in surprise. "How so? Since my death doesn't seem to be included in your plans, I fail to see how it can be used."

"Ah well, you see, wards and protection spells cast by the deep magic should be sufficient to remove you from under Voldemort's influence. A sacrificial spell, to be precise."

"I don't understand," Snape said, closing his eyes again. He felt too weary to snark. "Are you planning to throw yourself in front of a spell for me? I'm touched." Maybe not too weary after all.

"Not exactly. That shouldn't be necessary. Mr Potter, or rather, Miss Granger, have provided us with a rather pleasant alternative. I strongly advise you to accept."

"Accept what? Albus, would you please stop hinting and finally get to the heart of the matter!"

"Harry's marriage proposal, Severus."

Severus opened his eyes and stared at Dumbledore, even his cramps momentarily forgotten. "What?"

"Lily's sacrifice has provided Harry with protective spell that are more than a match for Voldemort's petty leashing charm. If you marry Harry, the charms will include you, as well. You will be safe."

"The boy agreed to this?" Severus gaped at Dumbledore.

"In fact, it was his suggestion, though I believe it was Miss Granger's idea. The girl is so very clever, it's what frightening sometimes," Dumbledore said fondly.

"What's frightening is that you are actually considering this!" Severus felt his voice rising in shock. "I will not marry a 16 year old boy! Especially not Potter!" He felt bile rise up his throat again, this time on account of the thought of being bonded to that self-centred, ignorant brat.

"Would you rather die?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly when Severus uttered a sound of confirmation. "Severus, the boy is offering you a chance to live. And once the war is over you can do with the relationship as you see fit."

"Oh, and in the meantime?" Severus sneered. "Do you expect us to live together, dine together, sleep together?"

"However you design you relationship is a matter between you and Harry, I would never interfere," Dumbledore said tartly. "I would advise you to keep up pretences- we would not want any of Voldemort's lackeys at the Ministry declaring your marriage a sham."

"Albus, this is insane!" He couldn't understand how Dumbledore seemed to be missing the bigger picture. "I can't stand the boy, and he hates me! We would sooner kill each!"

"If Harry truly hated you, Severus, he would not be desperately trying to save you. And if you really loathed him, we wouldn't even be here."

Severus shook his head as pain welled through him again, reminding him he had little hope. "I can't do this to him. Or to me, for that matter!"

"He _offered, _Severus. He wants to save you. Let him. You need each other, if the last days are anything to go by. Let him save you."

Severus stilled, thinking. Voldemort was still at large; so far, he had accomplished so little despite his privileged position at the Dark Lord's side. He had sworn to bring his downfall. He had sworn to protect Lily Evan's son. And he was not dead yet. And his lucid time was running out, he could already feel the spell gaining strength again. He met Albus' calm gaze and swallowed away his disgust and fear.

"Fine."

* * *

><p>The house was silent as they waited. Harry wondered how long it could take to break the news to Snape. Surely the man could decide wherever he wanted to live or not? What if the potion didn't last, or if it was too much and Dumbledore would let Snape off himself with an overdose? Well, then Harry needn't have bothered.<p>

He had just started working himself up as he replayed Lupin's argument in his head over and over again, where with each time they made more and more sense, when he heard slow steps on the stairs. Two sets of steps. Harry stood abruptly, almost knocking down his chair in the process, fighting the urge to run screaming from the room. Harry and Hermione moved to his sides, and Lupin grasped his shoulder. Harry felt as though he was to face down a horrible monster, maybe another acromatula or the odd Hungarian Horntail. Then Dumbledore, followed by Snape, appeared in the kitchen door and Harry thought for a moment he might faint.

Snape looked terrible. The bags under his eyes were so pronounced and dark that Harry thought for a moment the had given himself a pair of black eyes during his flailing. He seemed even thinner than usual, his skin paler and more pasty, his hair as greasy as ever, partially clinging to his face and neck where the sweat from his earlier fit had dried. As Snape advanced towards him, he also noticed that he held himself low, as though straightening up would cause him pain. Suddenly, Harry's friends no longer made him feel better as they surrounded him. They made him feel trapped.

"Potter", Snape spoke, his voice raspy and tired, yet not completely bereft of his usual snark. "I understand you're granting me the honour." His eyes, though finally aware and alive, seemed to be full of disdain and hatred. It was directed at him, Harry, even while he was saving this man's life.

Suddenly finding his throat clogged with dislike, he simply nodded.

Snape swayed alarmingly and held out his arm to support himself on the table. Despite himself, Harry started forward, in case he had to catch the man. Snape regained his balance, however, and Harry hoped that he hadn't noticed his little fit of chivalry.

"Well then," Dumbledore said brightly, since none else seemed inclined to speak. "Let's get this over with, shall we."

"Let's." Snape agreed dryly, though Harry had the impression he had trouble breathing. Panic gripped him again, as he gazed wildly across the room. Did they need a priest, would they be able to find one this time of night- he suddenly had the mad vision of himself and Snape pounding at a church door, demanding to be married. The thought was almost to much and he had to stifle a laugh, though it sounded more like a toad's belch. He saw Ron look at him oddly from the corner of his eye. Dumbledore seemed not to notice either man's distress and continued issuing out instructions.

"Ron, Hermione, I'm sure one of you would like to hold the position of Harry's best man-"

"I'll do it," Ron said immediately, before Hermione even had a chance to open her mouth.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Then, Miss Granger, if you would be so kind to do Professor Snape the honour." Hermione gaped at him for a moment, opened mouthed, then composed herself hurriedly, a pink flush creeping up her cheeks.

"Yes, yes, of course, Professor." She shot Snape a terrified look. Snape was still leaning heavily on the table, looking as though he was about to collapse. He seemed beyond any feeling of embarrassment. Harry envied him.

He felt an hand close around his arm, and Ron gently guided him next to Snape, until they both stood in front of Dumbledore. Then he stepped back, standing back with Hermione and Harry couldn't help throwing a nervous look at the both of them. Next to him, Snape straightened up with what seemed an enormous effort and a certain amount of pain. He had the look of a man who wanted to meet his doom head on. Harry followed Snape's gaze to Dumbledore and realized with a jolt that it would be him who would wed them.

"We have gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls-" Harry lost track of Dumbledore's speech after that, too caught up in the madness of the moment to notice. He threw an agitated glance at Snape, who stood next to him, stooping again, eyes slightly glazed. Harry hoped the potion would hold to the end of the ceremony.

"Do you, Harry-James, take Tobias-Severus to be your lawfully wedded husband, according to all the laws and customs of the land, to be bonded by law, love and magic?" Dumbledore seemed positively bright with delight at asking this question. Harry cleared his throat.

"I do," he said, hoping it didn't sound all to squeaky. He heard a muffled sound and stared in astonishment at Mrs Weasley, who seemed to be crying again.

"Do you, Tobias-Severus, take Harry-James to be your lawfully wedded husband, according to all the laws and customs of the land, to be bonded by law, love and magic?"

"I do," Snape said quietly and Harry though there was an air of defeat to his voice.

"The rings!" Dumbledore waved his wand and a small casket appeared in each Ron's and Hermione's hands. They both stepped forward and Ron opened the casket for Harry, revealing simple silver band, gleaming on it's velvet bed. Harry took it, hands still unsteady. He turned towards Snape and saw him already holding a ring at the ready. Snape's dark eyes bored into him and Harry felt naked, for the first time in this whole farce. He wondered if Snape was using Legilimency against him, then simply hoped he was too weak to do so. The looked at each other for a moment, then something flickered in Snape's eyes. He took Harry's left hand, surprisingly gently, and slid the perfectly fitting band onto Harry's ring finger. Harry suppressed a shudder at the feel of the cold metal.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Snape murmured so lowly Harry barely heard. Snape's hands left his and Harry realized it was now his turn. He felt the blood rush in his ears, heard his heart beating as fast as during any Quidditch game and he wondered briefly if he was sensing the deep magic both Hermione and Lupin had talked about. He took Snape's hand into his, as gently as he could, and slid the ring into place. He marvelled at the feel of calloused skin.

"With this ring, I thee wed."

Snape gave a strangled half moan and collapsed. Harry caught him before he hit the floor, adrenaline flooding him once more. Had something gone horribly wrong? Was Snape dying?

Uncomfortably, Snape was all but lying across Harry's shoulder, panting. Harry could sense the smell of stale sweat and maybe a hint of something spicy as he held Snape upright, wondering if someone was going to rescue him or not. He could feel Snape's breath skimming across his neck as Snape laboured breathing quickened, then slowed. Finally, someone pulled Snape off him and he saw it was Ron and Lupin who had come to his aid, each supporting one side.

Dumbledore beamed as he flicked his wand and a piece of parchment appeared on the table, along with a quill and an ink pot. "Sign, and it will be done!" Harry could see that the old man was positively radiant with joy and relief. Harry wished he could share the sentiment. He grabbed the quill and put down his signature where it said "applicant one". Then he held out the quill to Snape, who seemed more dead than alive at the moment.

"Er, Professor?", Harry asked timidly, unsure of how to address the Potions Master now. "Sir? You've got to sign, too."

Snape stirred and gazed up at Harry. He disentangled his right arm from Ron, leaning even heavier on Lupin, and visibly pulled himself together as he placed the quill upon the parchment. And as Snape put his signature on the paper, Harry couldn't help feeling that his life had just changed irrevocably.

"Arthur, Molly, if you would be so kind as to witness this union." Dumbledore gestured towards the document.

Lupin gently lowered Snape into a chair. And as first Molly, then Arthur Weasley signed the document, the black ink flared golden in affirmation. This time, Harry felt it, too; like a blanket, something settled on him, wrapping around him, around his mind. He glanced down at his ring. So this is what it was like to be married.

A thunk disturbed his thoughts. Severus Snape had passed out, his head now resting ungracefully on the table.

Dumbledore chuckled. "The enchantment has left his body. Now he must heal. Poor lad, he's been through so much. Now, Harry-" Dumbledore spread his arms wide, as though to hug him. "Congratulations!"

Harry simply stared. He didn't think he could take any more weirdness right now.

"We need to renew the wards around you. I know you already endured a visit at your aunt and uncle's this summer, but I'm afraid you'll have to return there once more. This time, Severus will accompany you. Just stay there for a few days, maybe a week, not more. You both need to rest, and you will be safe there."

Harry's brain went blank. Snape and the Dursleys. Right.

"You'll best leave tomorrow morning; I'll notify your relatives tonight. Severus will come with me, I'll have him treated in the hospital wing- we need to clear the rest of the potion out of his system. Then I'll send him over to your uncle's house, where you will spend the rest of the week. Is that acceptable?"

Harry, suddenly finding himself in a position required to make decisions regarding both him and Snape, simply nodded.

"Splendid!" The man's cheer seemed unbroken. "Here," he pulled the paper wrap of a chocolate frog out of his pocket, then tapped it with his wand, murmuring a long incantation. Finally, he handed it over to Harry.

"It's a portkey. It will activate tomorrow at noon exactly, so don't be late. It will take you to your uncle's doorstep. Now, if you will excuse me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, thank you for everything. Remus, Molly, Arthur, you've been most gracious. Thank you for the tea."

And with that, he flicked his wand, levitating Snape's body to his side and disappeared into the sitting room. Moments later, Harry heard the whoosh of his departure via Floo.

For the first time ever, Harry thought he needed a drink.

* * *

><p>So, this is it! You can see where this is headed, more or less- now, I haven't finished it yet, but as for now, I'm unsure wherever or not to continue. What do you think? Should I go on or not?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stood awkwardly on the front porch of Privet Drive. It was stiflingly hot, and the usually so well trimmed front lawn showed irregular brown patches. He scowled at the doorbell; he really didn't want to be here. Just two days ago he was enjoying the mad life at the Burrow with his favourite people in the world, and now he was back at the Dursley's and married to his least favourite person in the world. Perhaps with the exception of Malfoy.

Deciding it was becoming rather uncomfortably warm and that he couldn't put if off any longer, either way, Harry braced himself, then rang the doorbell.

Aunt Petunia opened the door. Her eyes narrowed in disgust as she saw who it was. "I thought you would return only once, next year," she said in a manner of greeting.

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea," Harry answered irritably.

"Quick, before the neighbours see you", his Aunt pulled him into the house, but let go of his arm as quickly as possible, peaking through the curtains to see if someone was watching. Harry paid her no mind, and heaved his bags up the stairs into Dudley's second bedroom. He set his bag down beneath the narrow bed, avoiding to step on the broken sports equipment littering the floor. He'd better tidy the place up before Snape arrived, otherwise there'd be hell to pay, for sure. Which reminded him- where was Snape going to sleep? His gaze was drawn towards the slim bed. This was going to be- interesting, at any rate. He supposed he could camp out on the floor, if he snuck in another blanket. One more reason to clear the floor. His cleaning was interrupted by Fawkes, who appeared with a flash of fire, perched on the closet. Harry jumped, nearly dropping the old stereo Dudley had smashed against the wall.

"Hello, Fawkes," Harry stroked the brilliant bird's head, before he untied the piece of parchment attached to the birds leg.

_Harry, _

_I hope you've reached your relatives safe and sound. Professor Snape is still recovering, but will be fit enough to travel this evening. He will arrive at 8 pm tonight. The two of you will reside in Surrey for a week, then leave by means of a portkey, which I will supply to you._

_I wish the both of you a pleasant and recuperating stay._

_Yours, most sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry grunted, almost crumbling the note in his fist. That meant he had a deadline to break the news to the Dursleys.

"Thanks, Fawkes," he addressed the bird kindly; after all, it was not the phoenix's fault. Somehow, he had managed to turn his life into a nightmare all by himself this time. The phoenix squaked melodiously, then disappeared in a ball of flames. The note seemed to hover in the air even after the wisps of smoke vanished. Harry sighed, then continued his efforts to make the room somewhat habitable.

When Harry thought he could do now better, he stretched out the crick in his back. His whole body was covered in an oily coat of sweat and he knew he stank. Thinking it was enough if one of them would be greasy, Harry took a long, cool shower.

Finally, he knew he could no longer procrastinate. He had to tell his aunt and uncle, lest Snape appeared on their doorstep unannounced. That would just make everything worse. So grudgingly Harry walked down the stairs, dread pooling in his guts. He heard Dudley and Uncle Vernon laughing at something on the telly, probably some sports show. Aunt Petunia was puttering about in the kitchen. Harry thought it might be best to confront her first, while she was alone. Shocking all three Dursley's at once was something Harry was unwilling to risk.

Aunt Petunia was washing the dishes as he approached her. Her lip curled in disgust when she saw him. "There's leftover's in the fridge, don't touch the cake," she snapped at him, deliberately turning her back on him. Harry ignored the insult, though it made his hands tingle with the urge to grab his wand and curse her with a Slug-Vomiting-Spell.

"Aunt Petunia-", he started, then paused. How was he going to explain this? "Erm, there's someone coming here tonight." At least that got her attention. She rounded on him.

"What? One of- of your lot?" She looked frightened and her eyes flickered to the door. "That headmaster of yours, Dumbledorks?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not Dumbledore. Another teacher from school. He's-" Harry took a deep breath. "He's going to have to stay with us for a week."

"WHAT!" Aunt Petunia screeched. "I'm not having another freak in the house! He won't be staying here, I won't allow it! Vernon-" Harry's uncle had already stomped into the kitchen, hearing his wife's enraged cries. His fists were raised, as though he expected Harry to be in the middle of something horrible.

"What's going on?", he demanded, his face turning purple, just in case. Dudley waddled into the kitchen, curiously staring at the scene before him. There went Harry's plan of not confronting all the Dursleys at once.

"A teacher of mine will be staying here with me for the week," he stated, hoping a simple message would be easiest to process. Unfortunately, it didn't help

"No," his uncle snarled, moving towards Harry, his fist raised menacingly. Harry retreated swiftly, his right hand clasped tightly around the wand he had tucked into the back of his trousers, hidden from sight by his oversized shirt. The touch of the warm wood comforted him, even if he would rather have himself be beaten to death than risk expulsion from Hogwarts.

"I couldn't help it," he said quickly, not caring that was not entirely true. "We won't be a bother, he'll stay upstairs with me anyway!" His heart was pounding with fear at the thought.

"I'N NOT GOING TO HOST RUDDY FREAKS IN MY HOME!", Uncle Vernon roared, spit flying from his mouth. Behind him, Dudley sniggered. "I WON'T HAVE ANOTHER ABOMINATION LIVING UNDER-"

"It's only for a few days!" Harry interrupted, his own temper flaring up. "He's not safe anywhere else! They might kill him out there!" This whole situation was bizarre: Here he was, pleading with his Muggle uncle for the potion teacher's safety.

"What do I care! The less of you out there, the better", Uncle Vernon spat, his moustache quivering.

"Well, I can't help it", Harry turned defensive, his voice rising. "Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, has ordered his stay and I don't think he wants his orders disobeyed!" He let his threat hang in the air and held his breath, hoping this would work.

Vernon Dursley hesitated, his piggy eyes darting around the room, as though he expected the wizard to be watching him from behind the coffee mug. He remembered the headmaster's visit a few weeks ago too well and was keen on another one.

"We won't be a bother", Harry quickly repeated himself, seizing the moment of silence. "We'll just stay upstairs, in my room. You'll barely know we're here. And in a couple of day's we'll be gone."

Aunt Petunia glowered at him, but Harry could see she too was afraid of Dumbledore and his magic tricks. Dudley looked confused and worried, as if he wasn't sure what was happening.

"Fine," his uncle snarled, to Harry's relief. "You and your- your- your _teacher _can stay here. But if I catch you doing anything out of order, I will skin your hide, boy." Harry could see a vein throbbing in Uncle Vernon's temple and swallowed. He prayed that Snape would actually behave himself.

"Yes, sir," he said, his gaze returning to Uncle Vernon's piggy eyes. The man grunted. Harry interpreted that as a dismissal and fled the kitchen, hardly believing he had made it out alive. He sprinted back up the stairs and back into his room, where he collapsed on his bed, heart pounding. A glance at the alarm clock told him he had half an hour before Snape's arrival. He hoped the Dursleys would have calmed down by then. He closed his eyes and willed his pulse to slow. He realized he was once again covered in sweat. Panicking again, he jumped up, and sped to the bathroom to shower once more, afterwards spraying himself with Dudley's deodorant for good measure. Throwing on fresh clothes, he saw that it would be a mere ten minutes until the estimated arrival time of his least favourite teacher. With a jolt, he realized he hadn't done anything about the sleeping arrangements- he crammed around in the wardrobe for a thin blanket, then crept into his aunt and uncle's bedroom and stole one of their many pillows. He stuffed the small bundle in a corner of the room, checking it over one last time. Six minutes to go.

He hurried downstairs, joining the Dursleys in the living room. He carefully sat himself on the couch, keeping an eye on Uncle Vernon, who was pacing.

"When is this teacher of yours coming?" He asked Harry irritably, narrowly avoiding knocking over the coffee table.

"He should be here at eight," Harry answered timidly. Uncle Vernon threw a look at his watch and huffed. Aunt Petunia was sitting on the couch as well, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Dudley was hovering near the kitchen door, obviously trying to stay near an escape route. A minute passed in silence as Uncle Vernon continued his pacing, glancing at the clock every few seconds.

"What subject does he teach, anyway?," he barked at Harry.

"Uh-" Harry was caught off guard, unsure of what to answer. "Potions," he said truthfully. Seeing his Uncle grow pale, he quickly added, "It's like chemistry, like they teach in mugg- I mean, at normal schools."

This seemed to placate his Uncle a little. Harry wasn't even sure if that statement was accurate- he had never attended a chemistry class in his life. It seemed to somehow involve mixing substances together and seeing what happened, so he guessed it was fairly accurate.

"Why is he supposed to be staying with you any-" A sharp knock on the door interrupted his uncle's next question. Harry jumped to his feet as his Aunt Petunia uttered a quiet whimper. He sped to answer the door. He wrenched it open and froze, gaping.

Snape returned his gaze with the usual air of arrogance and disdain. He was wearing a well fitting black shirt. It was long-sleaved despite the summer heat, but the first two buttons were undone, displaying his clavicles and a hint of pale skin. He was wearing black jeans, rounding up the outfit with a pair of black leather shoes. Harry goggled, completely forgetting about his relatives for the moment. He had never yet seen Snape in Muggle clothes. Somehow, they made him seem remarkably- casual. Non-threatening, even.

"Mr Potter", Snape sneered at him. Harry blinked, the reality of who was standing on his uncle's doorstep, and why, fully returning to him. "Professor Snape, sir," he quickly said, moving out of the way. "Please come in." Snape picked up a small black bag at his feet and entered the hallway of Privet Drive. Harry closed the door behind him, swallowing nervously. He silently beckoned Snape towards the living room, dreading of what would happen when those two worlds met.

The Dursleys stood in the middle of the sitting room, clustered in front of the sofa, Dudley peaking out from behind of his parents.

"Er, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, this is Professor Severus Snape," Harry introduced Snape awkwardly. Snape inclined his head politely and Uncle Vernon visibly squared his shoulders.

"You!" Aunt Petunia was staring at Snape in shock. Snape simply smirked. "Hello, Tuney," he drawled, his eyes glittering malevolently. Harry's jaw dropped in astonishment. Uncle Vernon's head whipped back and forth between his wife and Snape.

"You, you know each other?," he sputtered. Dudley stared at his mother in amazement.

"Why, yes, we used to live in the same neighbourhood, a long time ago," Snape explained, and Harry could tell he was really enjoying himself.

"We were children," Aunt Petunia amended quickly. "He and my freak sister used to inseparable. They went to that horrid school together. I only knew him through her." She looked downright ashamed at that admission.

Harry's world tilted off it's axis. Snape and his mother had been _friends? _And good ones, by the sound of it? He felt as though a pink-bearded Dumbledore proclaiming his love for a goldfish couldn't have surprised him more. He realized his mouth was still slack and closed it quickly.

"That is correct," Snape agreed, shifting his grip on his bag. Harry realized with a pang that he had neglected to take it from him.

"Here, sir, let me," he said, reaching for the bag. Snape raised an eyebrow at him, but relinquished his hold on the luggage. "Most gracious, Potter." Harry felt his ears redden at the mocking tone.

"Such as it is, you must be positively thrilled about the union of our families," Snape continued speaking, a sadistic glint in his eye.

"What?", Uncle Vernon barked, a note of panic in his voice. "What union? What is this madness?"

"Potter, you haven't told them?" Snape drawled, with barely concealed glee. "How thoughtful of you allow me this joyful announcement." Snape held up his left hand, the silver band glinting. "Potter and I were married yesterday evening. I'm sorry we didn't invite you, it was a very private event."

Uncle Vernon's eyes bulged to a degree that Harry feared they might just pop out of his skull. Aunt Petunia turned an unnatural shade of green as she stared at Snape, then jumped to Harry, seeking his hand. Harry presented his ring helpfully. Uncle Vernon recoiled at the sight, his mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out, looking like an oversized bullfrog.

"You're a bloody _fairy?_" Dudley blurted out. That unqualified comment did it for Harry; he let out a snort. His whole world was falling to shambles, he might as well enjoy the ride.

"Looks like I am," he grinned, fighting the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. He wondered if this was what Snape was feeling. Giddy with hysteria, that was. "This will be our wedding night, actually," he added and watched as Uncle Vernon sat heavily on the sofa, still staring at the two wizards, standing side by side.

"Come on, I'll show the bedroom," he said, and thought for a moment he had gone too far when Snape looked at him utter amazement. Then a flash crossed his face and his expression settled into a leer.

"I can barely wait," Snape purred, his black eyes burning into Harry's. Harry shivered at the tone and the implication and lead the way upstairs. He let Snape step into the room first, then followed and closed the door behind him. Silence.

Harry's grip on Snape's bag went slack and it fell onto the floor with a low thump. Harry leaned against the door, his forehead connecting with the firm wood. "Bloody hell," he whispered, not daring to turn around.

"Indeed," Snape remarked dryly. Harry squinted at him, unwilling to fully turn around. Snape seemed to be regarding the room. "We made quite the impression, I think. However, I would suggest that we refrain from exchanging such crude innuendoes we're back at Hogwarts. It is hardly appropriate in a schooling environment."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, eyeing Snape like some dangerous arachnid that had crept in through the window and which he was unsure of how to approach. Maybe a vacuum cleaner was the solution.

Snape looked at him, slight derision carved permanently into his features. Harry met his gaze, not willing to look away. The moments passed as the men stared at each other. Harry noticed that Snape's skin looked even more sallow than usual, dark circles under his eyes. He looked much better than he had last night, but still profoundly sick. "Are you alright?", Harry asked suddenly, noting the beads of sweat that had gathered on Snape's forehead.

Snape sneered at him. "Fine, Potter. Thanks to you honourable act I am now free of any curse, save that of being married to a substandard student who is underage and has yet to understand that the world does not solely revolve around his scarred head."

Harry clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to throw a punch at Snape. "Don't think I'm thrilled by the turns of events, Snape!" He didn't care about being respectful any more- this was going to be dirty and he didn't plan on playing fair. "It's not like you're what I've expected of my bride-to-be."

"Oh, been dreaming about your wedding day, Potter?" Snape jeered. "I'm perfectly sorry for not being the well-endowed young little girl that beholds your every word and worships the ground you walk upon!"

Harry glared daggers at Snape, struggling to keep his tongue in check. Inside his mind, a voice that often sounded suspiciously like Hermione's, was shouting at him.

"This isn't any good," Harry finally said, carefully keeping his tone in check, though his fist still shook. "If we go on like this, we'll kill each other before the week is over."

"I hardly believe you are capable of killing me, Potter, you lack the abilities," Snape sniffed, "but you are right, uncharacteristically so." Harry nearly hit him then.

"But I suggest we try to at least keep up appearances, when in public. As you're no doubt ignorant of, we both have many enemies within the Ministry. The news of our bonding has no doubt already reached the Dark Lord. He will have realized by now why we did it and will do anything within his power to nullify our contract. I do not have to tell you that his resources are extensive."

Harry nodded grimly, his muscles unpleasantly tense.

"His lackeys at the Ministry will come up with so clever story as to why our union is a sham. If they can prove it, it will be nullified and I will once more be at the mercy of the Dark Lord. And since I have privy to all of the Order's secrets, this would be fatal for many."

Harry's brow furrowed. "So, what you're saying, we have to pretend this is real, or Voldemort might get his slimy hands on you."

"That simple explanation suits you well, no doubt, but it is in it's essence correct." Harry ignored the insult.

"Fine."

"Good."

"We might try to be polite to each other, too," Harry said pointedly. "Or else this may become very difficult."

"Admirable thought. I will try to restrain my depreciating comments on your behalf, however accurate they may be."

Harry gritted his teeth so hard it hurt, but he nodded once. Sighing, Snape sat on the bed leaning against the adjacent wall. Harry picked up the bag and deposited it next to the bed, then sat on the chair next to desk. Harry listened for any signs that the Dursleys had gotten over their initial rage and were plotting on how to remove them both from the house. Though Harry thought that might prove difficult now, since while still wasn't allowed to use magic out of school, Snape had no such restraints. Harry couldn't imagine the Dursleys forcing Snape to do anything he didn't want to.

"Pray tell me, Potter, where is the bathroom?" Snape asked suddenly. "I'm weary, and I want to get ready for bed."

"First door on the right", Harry pointed. Snape stood, grabbed his bag and strode out of the room without another word. Once he was alone, Harry exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. He stepped towards the window and opened it, hoping the fresh air would help him calm down. He looked to the horizon, longing to see the shape of Hedwig flying towards him, so that he could take comfort from at least one friendly soul in the house. He stayed there, trying to wrap his mind around what happened the last few days and watched the sun set.

Eventually, the sound of the shower running ceased and Snape entered the room, dressed in slacks and a thin white shirt that clung to his moist skin. Harry had time to think how thin Snape was before he politely turned his gaze away. His trip to the bathroom was quick, just a brush of his teeth, a change of clothes and he hurried back, not wanting to meet any member of his family right now. Snape was sitting on the bed again, back resting against the wall, flicking through a book. Harry, taking his cue from him, pulled the rumpled blanket and pillow out. He folded the blanket neatly, thinking he'd just sleep on top of it and spread it on the floor, arranging the pillow so that he was facing the window.

"Potter, what on earth are you doing?" Snape was looking at him, completely nonplussed.

"I'm not going to sleep yet," Harry said, lowering himself onto his resting place. He winced as he snagged his elbow, then put his wand next to his pillow, within reach.

"I wanted read to some as long as it's light out," he said, grabbing the book on Quidditch Ron had given him for his last birthday.

"And is there a particular reason you insist on doing so on the floor?" Snape asked, and Harry had the impression he was doing his best to stay polite.

"Well, you get the bed," Harry said irritably. Leave it to Snape to rub it in his face. "Unless you want to switch, I'll just stay down here, thanks."

Snape simply stared at him. Then he stood up, grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointed it at the bed. "_Engorgio_."

The bed grew and Harry just managed to roll out of it's way as it expanded towards the middle of the room. Snape lowered his wand and Harry stared at the full-size bed which was now occupying the whole room. Snape looked at him in silence, and Harry stared right back.

"No reason for you to sleep on the floor, Potter," Severus said softly. He clambered back onto the bed, put away his wand and resumed his reading.

Harry was still frozen to his spot, staring at the calm Potions Master. Who evidently expected him to crawl into the bed next to him. Slowly, as though not to startle a dangerous predator, Harry reached for the discarded book, then clambered cautiously into the bed. Snape didn't acknowledge his presence. He opened his book on the page he had been reading.

"Thanks," he said. Snape gave a non-committal grunt. Harry gazed down at his book, gaze unfocused. Every time he thought his life couldn't get more crazy, he was proved wrong. Maybe he should just stop assuming there would ever be such a thing as a "normal life" for him.

"Is it true?" A thought had suddenly occurred to Harry. He glanced at Snape, letting the pretence of reading fall. "That you and my mother were friends?"

Snape lowered his book as well. "Yes," he said and Harry detected a threat in his voice.

"How- how did you know each other?" Harry asked carefully. Snape's eyes narrowed, as far as Harry could tell in the gloom.

"As I said before, we grew up in the same neighbourhood. I saw she had magical powers, and I befriended her. I told her what she was. And later, we went to Hogwarts together."

"What was she like?"Snape blinked in surprise. Clearly, that had not been the question he had anticipated. Harry blushed. "Everyone always says I look like my Dad and I have my Mum's eyes. I know that Dad always got into a lot of trouble, I know who his friends were, I know he was an animagus- and a bully." He looked down at his book, tracing the cover with is fingers. "I know he shouted at my mother to take me and run. The night of the attack, I mean. I know he died protecting us. I know my Mum died protecting me, I know that she pleaded with Voldemort to spare me and kill her instead. But I don't know anything about what she was like. You know, as a person." He swallowed thickly. When nothing happened, he looked up and saw that Snape looked stricken and maybe even a bit- sad?

"Potter, I-" his face scrunched up and it looked to Harry as though he was closing off. "Why don't you talk to Dumbledore about this? Or your werewolf-uncle? They both knew your mother."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but they weren't her friends, were they? Sometimes I think that Ron and Hermione are the only ones who really know me. Everyone else just sees Harry Potter and the bloody scar."

Snape remained silent for a moment. "Lily was- kind. And loyal. Quite fiercely so. I imagine that's what put her into Gryffindor, since she lacked their typical stupidity." He was silent for a moment, and Harry was astounded to see a soft smile play across Snape's features. The expression was so gentle and alien on Snape's face that it took Harry's breath away. For a single moment, Snape looked- beautiful.

"She was very gifted at potions. A talent you very obviously lack. She loved to go swimming and we often went to the lake in summer. She loved the summer. And she loved cherries."

And with that, Snape roused himself and the old dungeon bat was back. "It doesn't really matter any more, Potter. The dead are gone and are of no concern to us."

Harry watched as Snape put his book aside and turned onto his side, his back to Harry.

"It matters to me," he said softly. "Thank you, Professor Snape." Then he lay down and in the darkness, he imagined his mother's laughing face, and the taste of cherries followed him into his dreams.

* * *

><p>I will try to update as regularly as possible, but as the story is not finished yet, I'm afraid you will have to be patient when I'm out. I WILL, however, finish it. I <em>loathe<em> unfinished stories and this one will be completed eventually.

Oh, and reviews make me more inclined to post quickly ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Snape lay with his back to the boy, uncomfortably hot and cursing himself for talking about Lily. It was not his responsibility to tell the boy anything about his parents, his mutt of a godfather should have taken care of that. His memories were his own, he had never intended to share them with anyone, hoarding them as jealously in his mind as a dragon would his gold. Though all the jewels of the earth could compare to his memories of Lily Evans.

Snape squirmed and fought the urge to fidget. He listened to the boy breathe and wondered if he was still awake. After a while, Potter's breathing slowed and Severus knew he was asleep. Only after he was sure the boy wouldn't awake, he turned back on his back. Potter was curled onto his side, his back to Severus, the covers already slipping from his form. It was stiflingly hot in the room, and sharing the bed with another person didn't help any. Severus regretted having super sized the bed for them both- most amusing to have the boy sleep on the floor. Whatever madness had possessed him to lay down there in the first place, Severus didn't know. He had expected to be told to sleep on the floor himself, since Potter surely considered this his home and thus expected Severus to yield to his authority. He had been rather looking forward to crushing that particular idea. But, Severus thought as he turned onto his stomach, Petunia hadn't changed much, if only grown more bitter. In consequence, Potter didn't seem to consider this place much of home.

It was certainly not was Severus had expected. The looks of fear and hatred his own uncle had shot at Potter had not gone unnoticed. Maybe that explained Potter's tendency to defy rules- he had no such opportunity here, without magic and utterly dependant on his aunt and uncle's benevolence, lest his protection would fade and he'd be all but gift-wrapped for the Dark Lord and his followers. As he himself was now, Severus thought and shifted, kicking off the covers.

This was going to be a nightmare, he was sure of it. Protecting Lily's son, and seeing the Dark Lord's downfall, along with simply living his life and torturing his students- it had been enough. But now, everything would change, he had to put up with Potter on a daily basis, in his own home now even. How he was supposed to do that, without throttling the boy, was beyond him. Vaguely, he wondered how many curses he could cast on the boy before anyone became suspicious. Probably none, as Potter's two lapdogs, Weasley and Granger would be monitoring their relationship closely, as the rest of that annoying house. Snape snorted softly as he imagined the outrage that would sweep through the castle. Gryffindor's Golden Boy, the Chosen One as the Prophet was calling him nowadays, married off to the old, grimy Potions Master, who had never been able to quite lose the stigma of a Death Eater.

He glanced at his own arm, the Dark Mark visible in the crook of his elbow. Yes, they would be horrified of the thought of the old man defiling their young, handsome hero. Severus felt his stomach churn in disgust- he had never been big on intimacy, rarely using it for anything else than manipulation, or to quench irksome desires. Touching Potter- Severus shuddered at the thought. No, he would choose death, this time. Nor could he think that Lily would thank him for molesting her son, since the thought of anything consensual was beyond laughable.

Severus sighed with fatigue, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow. His fingers firmly curled around the wand beneath it and he let himself slip into unconsciousness, resining to brood some more in the morning.

* * *

><p>Harry woke slowly, blinking in the light, wondering why Aunt Petunia's rapping on the door hadn't woken him. He reached for his glasses, then spotted the figure lying next to him. He remembered it all and he froze. Snape was clearly still asleep, face turned towards Harry, his arms circling the pillow and hugging it. Harry looked at his face, unsure of what to do. Snape looked harmless when he slept, almost peaceful- but Harry knew that look was deceitful. He tried to untangle his legs without disturbing the man and gently clambered out of bed. Snatching up his clothes, he snuck out of the room, pausing at the door to listen to the man's breathing pattern- it hadn't changed. Sighing in relief, he closed the door in a quite click and made his way to the bathroom.<p>

As he entered the kitchen downstairs, only Dudley sat in the kitchen, his chins wobbling as he chewed on an enormous sandwich, eyes glued to the TV. Harry ignored him and opened the fridge, scanning it's context. As he took out some eggs and bacon, he hesitated. Should he prepare something for Snape as well. For all he cared, Snape could starve- but as he put his hand on the door to resolutely close it, the image of Snape stepping between him and the Death Eaters appeared quite unbidden, in his mind. He paused- he had married that man to save him, for goodness sake. As he glanced at the stove, he thought that Snape probably didn't know how to use it, anyway. Harry sighed, cursing himself for having a conscience.

As he started frying the eggs and bacon, he noticed Dudley watching him with narrowed eyes. Harry tried to ignore him still, as he puttered around, collecting items from various kitchen cupboards. Finally, he snapped, "What?"

Dudley flinched slightly at his tone, but then grinned foolishly. "Had a good night, Harry?" His eyes glittered evilly. "I didn't know you liked taking it up the ass!"

"There are so many things you don't know, Dudley, I doubt there's a library big enough to fit them all," Harry answered, concentrating hard on frying the bacon. He knew denying it had no use, nor was it really worth it. He hoped Dudley would get bored eventually and leave him alone.

Dudley ignored the insult, but continued grinning. "Does he hit you? I heard you queers like that. You're unnatural, Piers said. Maybe he'll kill you," Dudley said, suddenly hopeful.

Harry snorted, hoping that Dudley didn't hear. His cousin had no idea how probable that was.

He jabbed at the bacon with more force than necessary. Dudley was silent, probably ran out of insults. Harry hoped he would leave the kitchen so Harry could eat in peace. He put his share of the food on a plate, leaving another one out for Snape as he turned off the stove. When he turned around, Dudley was still observing him. Harry's heart sank. Obviously he wasn't finished yet.

"You called him 'sir' yesterday," Dudley said. "He's your teacher."

"Very good, Dudley," Harry said dryly, poking at his food. He was too angry to eat, but at least he had something to focus his attention on. "You've finally learned to listen. About time."

"Didn't know you were doing that bad in school", Dudley crowed. "Do you put out for all the teachers or just for him?" Dudley had that stupid grin plastered on his face again. Harry's fingers itched to grab his wand and remove it, along with the rest of Dudley's ugly face.

"Shut it, Dudley," he growled.

"I bet you like it," Dudley sniggered. "Probably couldn't get any girl to like, you ugly freak. Didn't anyone else want to have you?" Harry's fork clattered across the plate as his hands shook with rage. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck. He refused to look at Dudley again, glaring at his food. He couldn't do anything, he reminded himself. If he got himself into trouble with the Ministry now, it could ruin everything. And Dudley could still beat him into a pulp if he wanted to.

"He's older than Dad," Dudley continued, obviously enjoying himself. "He's really ugly, and pale. Does he ever go out? He looks like I could take him," Dudley laughed, delighted at the thought of beating Snape up.

Harry smirked at his plate, he'd really like to see that. "Yeah Dudley, that sounds like a really great idea," Harry said. "You do that."

"You don't think I can?" Dudley puffed out his huge chest. "I could take that pouf any time!"

"I'd rather you not take me anywhere, Mr Dursley," Snape drawled, entering the kitchen. Dudley paled as Snape glared at him, a look designed to strike fear into the hearts of even the most courageous and foolish of students. Harry watched Dudley quail in amusement, having been at the receiving end of one of those glares more than once.

"Is there anything else?" Snape demanded, as though this was a lesson. Dudley shook his head, too terrified to speak. "Then you may leave," Snape drawled and Dudley fled the kitchen, taking his uneaten sandwich with him. Snape watched him go, contempt clear in his eyes.

"Welcome to the family," Harry muttered, finally spearing some of his food. To his surprise, he head a low chuckle. Emboldened by this, Harry added, "I left some food for you on the stove."

He glanced up at Snape; surprise seemed to flit across his face before his usual arrogant expression took it's place. "Very gracious of you, Potter, thank you." Harry winced at the mocking tone.

"You're welcome," he said tartly. He stiffened as Snape sat on the stool Dudley had occupied, but continued eating. The both sat there in silence, finishing their meals. Harry put his dishes in the dishwasher, then glanced at Snape, who was looking at the machine with a look of deep mistrust.

"What is that device?" He demanded. Harry felt a flare of irritation at the tone.

"It's a dishwasher," he explained. "It will clean the dishes so I don't have to do them by hand." He held out his hand, then put Snape's dishes next to his. "See, I put in the soap," he said, taking out the tab from under the sink, "then I turn it on." He selected the programme and pushed the button. After a second of silence,, the machine started rumbling quietly.

Snape muttered something about muggles and unsanitary technology, then exited the kitchen without further ado. Harry smirked and glanced at the dishwasher. Funny how easy it was to befuddle wizards with such everyday devices.

Harry wandered into the living room, unsure of what to do with himself- his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were watching TV and glared at him as soon as he entered, so he hastily retreated. He ambled outside, into the garden, unwilling to go back upstairs. The less time he was going to spend in Snape's company, the less likely they were to kill each other. Finally, after a tour of the dry garden, he decided to fetch a book and come back out here to read some more. After all, he had nothing better to do and it was slightly less stuffy outside.

As he entered the room, his gaze fell on Snape, who lay on their bed, eyes closed. As he watched, one eye opened and Snape looked at him blearily.

"Er-" Harry wondered what was appropriate in this situation. "I just wanted to get my book. Sorry."

Snape's eye closed again without any comment. Feeling thoroughly freaked out, Harry snatched his book and fled the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. He tumbled down the stairs, his heart racing. That had been extraordinary weird.

Still shaken, he sat against the trunk of the tree in the garden and tried to read. After an hour or so, his back started aching and he was hot and uncomfortable. He remembered a technique he had applied in his third summer holidays back from Hogwarts- he lay down beneath the living room window, hoping for something interesting to be said. However, some telenovela was on and Harry assumed Aunt Petunia was watching, since neither Uncle Vernon nor Dudley indulged in these kind of programmes. He resigned himself that he had no choice but to either die of boredom or go inside and face Snape- maybe he could snag some of his schoolbooks and do some more of the assigned reading. Hermione would be so proud.

When he cautiously opened the bedroom door, Snape indeed seemed asleep again. Harry wondered for a moment wherever that was all his teacher would plan on doing; if so, this visit might prove only half as bad as Harry imagined. He carefully knelt next to his own trunk and withdrew a few books he had lent from Hermione and the Black library. Still kneeling on the floor, Harry threw Snape's trunk a curious glance- it was locked snugly and Harry didn't dare open it, no matter how tempting it was. He straightened up again, knees cracking. As he turned around, he saw that Snape was awake and eyeing him suspiciously. Harry swallowed nervously.

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to wake you." He held up his books in form of an apology.

"It's all right Potter, I was already awake," Snape grumbled. The man stretched and groaned lightly on the bed. Harry stared, mouth slightly open as Snape rolled sensually over on his back. He clamped his mouth shut as Snape sat upright. He felt the heat radiating from his face and prayed that Snape would account that to the heat, not his embarrassment. Snape noticed his staring and frowned.

"What?" Snape snapped.

Harry jumped, and scurried towards the door. "Nothing, sir. I'll just be outside." He dove from the room, very pointedly thinking about something else than his Potion Master rolling around in his bed.

He stayed in the garden until the shadows had lengthened and his stomach churned with hunger. Thinking he would just grab a bite of whatever and quickly leave the kitchen, he nearly ran into Uncle Vernon. His uncle flinched away from the touch of his nephew's body and barely concealed his disgust.

"You!" He barked at Harry, moustache quivering. Harry wondered what he could have possibly done wrong while sitting outside in the garden. Had one of the neighbours seen him and complained?

"Tell your- your-" His face turned slightly purple as he seemed to choke on the word 'husband". "-your- _teacher _to put the radio right! I'm telling you, boy-" He took a menacing step towards Harry, who backed away. "I'm not going to put up with this nonsense!" He stomped past Harry, nearly flattening him against the wall.

Wondering what Snape could have possibly done with the radio, he cautiously peeked into the kitchen. Snape was reclining in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread and reading a muggle newspaper with a look of contempt on his face. The radio, Harry saw, seemed to be turned on, but no sound came from it.

"Uhm, sir?," Harry said tentatively, unsure what reaction to expect. Snape looked up at him, arching an eyebrow, as though acknowledging his presence. "Why is my Uncle threatening me because of the radio?"

"Because he is an imbecile and didn't turn that blaring thing down on his own account," Snape growled. "I put a Silencing Charm on it."

Harry walked towards the radio and turned it off. "Would you remove it, please?" He asked, doing his best to stay polite. He hoped Snape would do as he asked, else he would have hell to pay for it.

Snape stared at him for a moment, then silently pointed it at the radio.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, and made himself a sandwich. He wolfed it down as quickly as he could, eager to be out of Snape's awkward company. Once he was finished, he sprinted upstairs, glad to have the room to himself for a few moments. He rummaged around in his trunk, pulling fresh clothes from it and proceeded to the shower, wondering what he would do the entire evening.

Harry stepped out of the shower and realized he forgot a shirt, but shrugged it off- it didn't really matter, hot as it was. He could walk around topless well enough, Ron had done so a few times over the summer. However, he hoped Dudley wouldn't pick up the habit. He might not be sure if he was gay or not, but he didn't think his sense for aesthetics could take it.

He entered the bedroom again and found Snape back on the bed, reading again. Snape looked up as he entered and he saw Snape's eyes flicker across his chest before returning to his face.

"It's hot out", Harry said defensively, before Snape had the chance to open his mouth.

Snape smirked. "This is your house, Potter", Snape said. " I dare say you can do as you please."

He stood up, grabbed what Harry had come to recognize as his bag of toilet accessories and pushed past Harry.

When Snape returned, he was wearing the same bed clothes as the night before. Harry had decided not to put on a nightshirt- his remained in his slacks, everything else was just too warm. He sat on the bed and pretended to read until Snape rested next to him again.

"Professor?" He asked timidly, slightly taking aback at how close Snape was to him. He fought the urge to squirm away. "How is this going to work? At Hogwarts, I mean?"

Snape looked at him and narrowed his eyes in dislike. Harry tried best not to be bothered by this.

"I mean, I'm not going to be in your lessons any more, that's good, I guess-"

"Why won't you be in my lessons, Potter?" Snape purred. "I've always assumed you planned on continuing Defence of the Dark Arts."

Harry stared at Snape, uncomprehending, then his eyes widened. "You're taking over Defence? Why?"

"Because we were once more short of a staff member, and I have volunteered to take over the job. I have vast experience in fighting the Dark Arts, Potter."

"So Slughorn is the new potion teacher?"

"Correct."

"Oh." Harry's stomach plummeted as he processed the new piece of information. He wasn't rid of Snape, after all.

"Will you be marking me?" Harry was horrified. He had always exceeded in Defence and was unwilling to sacrifice his good marks just because his spouse hated him.

"Your work will be examined by the Headmaster himself," Snape said, crossing his ankles. Harry noticed his feet were bare.

"As for our living arrangements," Harry's eyes flicked back to his face, "unfortunately, we will have to be living together in the Defence teacher quarters. I suppose we could-"

"What?" Harry's mouth caught up with his brain. "I'm not going to be staying in Gryffindor Tower?"

"No, Potter, you are a married _man _now," Snape sneered, showing how little he thought the term applied to Harry. "It would not be seemly for you to stay with your single room mates. You might be doing Merlin-knows-what with them behind my back." Snape smirked as Harry's cheek turned pink.

"So what, we're going to live like this?" He gestured at the bed, containing the both of them. "I mean, we can have a second bed, right? You don't like this any more than I do-"

"You don't understand, Potter," Snape sneered. "Have you forgotten what I have told you yesterday? By now, someone at the Ministry will have seen our marriage certificate. The news of the Chosen One's marriage will have spread like wildfire through the Ministry. Voldemort's spies will have knowledge of it by now. He will undoubtedly use his connections and lackeys at the Ministry to try and somehow prove that somehow, our marriage is invalid. If he is able to prove so, then our bond will be broken. Unfortunately, this would place a lot of people, including myself, in grave danger."

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose, shoving his glasses out of the way. This sounded worse than he imagined.

"Don't call you what, Potter?"

"The Chosen One," Harry spat. "I hate it."

"Isn't it grand enough for you?" Snape jeered.

"Shut up," Harry snapped. "You don't bloody know a thing about me. And there's nothing grand about being chosen by Voldemort. Do you really think I ever wanted any of this?"

"Mind your tone, Potter!" Snape threatened, baring his teeth.

The silence stretched as Harry pondered what Snape had said. "So, what kind of things would prove that our marriage is a fraud?"

"Any evidence that one of us has been forced into it. Therefore you should limit your whining to a minimum," Snape said. "Also, try to appear appropriately satisfied, Potter." Snape's eyes glinted. "Any marriage is expected to be consummated. Hence there will be no second bed in our bedroom, much as I regret it."

Harry gazed at him in horror as the implications sunk in. "But we won't- I mean, we won't really have to-"

"As long as you keep up appearances, everything will be fine, Potter," Snape snapped. "I assure you, I have no intentions on forcing myself on you and you are very lucky I do not challenge you for this insult." Harry mouthed like a goldfish, too confused to form a coherent answer.

"Frankly, as long as you are discreet, I don't care what you do and whom you do it with."

Harry's thoughts screeched to a halt. "Are you giving me permission to cheat on you?" He asked weakly.

"I have no use for your fidelity," Snape said haughtily. "But I would strongly advise you to keep your hormones in check- students are not known for their discretion and any rumours would endanger our bond. I would prefer not to die because you couldn't keep your hands off other people's snitches."

Harry turned red again. "I don't- I mean, that's not- I'm not exactly known for chasing skirts you know," he said sarcasticly. "I won't cheat on you. Is there anything else?" He fervently hoped not.

"Not really, no. Although we might make the effort to assume a faintly less hateful attitude toward one another, as not to rouse suspicion. I feel that will prove difficult," Snape said, with something akin to regret in his voice.

"Brilliant," Harry muttered. Live with Snape, not sleep with anyone else and pretend to like the man. He'd rather have another round with the Hungarian Horntail.

"I assume you're already regretting your gracious offer to marry me," Snape mused, watching Harry closely.

"Not yet, but you're working on it," Harry muttered, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be at Hogwarts at the lake, sit on a stone somewhere, watch the Giant Squid and think in peace and quiet. Despite the heat, goosebumps erupted on his arms and back and he shivered.

"Have you got any more questions, Potter?" Snape seemed to be watching him closely. Harry shook his head, willing his tremors to pass. He sensed Snape looking at him for a moment longer, than returning to his book.

* * *

><p>Snape woke. He lay still for a moment, listening to the darkness. His hand was clamped firmly around his wand. He knew something woke him, he just had to figure out what before he-<p>

A grunt beside him disturbed his thoughts. Gods, the boy was dreaming. Severus rolled around, looking at him in the darkness. The boy was facing away from him and groaned as Severus watched. Merlin, the boy wasn't having a wet dream, was he? He didn't feel quite prepared to sleeping next to an aroused young man- Potter whimpered and turned around restlessly. Severus caught sight of his face- it was scrunched up in distress and another pained breath escaped Harry's lips.

Severus watched him, unsure of what to do- he had heard about Potter's nightmares, but had naturally never seen one in action. Or was this a vision? The boy's breath hitched.

"No," he mumbled, shifting. "Cedric- don't kill him- Don't!" The boy tossed harder, hyperventilating. Severus heart sank- it seemed as though the boy was reliving the Dark Lord's revival and Cedric Diggory's death. He cautiously reached out and grabbed the boys arm. He gave it a light shake.

"Potter."

The boy started in his sleep at the unfamiliar touch, then resumed his thrashing with renewed intensity. "No, don't- Voldemort- Don't kill him- Please, no-" The boy's arm slipped from Severus' grasp as the boy turned again. He cursed under his breath and scooted closer, reaching out again.

"Potter, wake up!" He said firmly, leaning over the boy. "Potter!" He shook his shoulder roughly.

The boy woke with a gasp, breathing heavily. Severus watched as the boy's eyes flitted across the room, finally fixing on Severus, who was still looming over him. The boy fell onto his back, closing his eyes and rubbing his scar.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Nightmare."

"I noticed," Severus remarked, watching the boy closely. Potter looked pale in the moonlight, sweat coating his brow. His gaze wandered down his heaving chest, which also glistened slightly. Snape realized with a jolt that he still had his hand on Harry's arm and withdrew it quickly.

"Are you all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm used to it," He stopped rubbing his scar and opened his eyes. "Sorry I woke you."

"Stop apologizing, Potter," Severus said gruffly, thinking what else to say. He was no stranger to the terrors of the night. "No harm done." He caught himself staring at Potter's chest again and turned away resolutely. "Sleep, if you can."

"Yeah, sor- Night, Professor." Severus grimaced into his pillow. He wasn't sure about any aspect of their relationship, but being called 'Professor' in bed seemed somehow- twisted. He listened to Potter's breathing. It slowed, but not unusually so. Severus knew he was still awake. He had never wondered wherever Potter's adventures kept him up at night- for the first time, it occurred to Severus that many of the things Potter had seen should not have been witnessed by any soul, especially not by a fifteen year-old boy. No wonder he had nightmares. He lay unmoving, until sleep took him again.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed in a smooth routine- Harry left the room as soon as he woke, unwilling to stay in Snape's company longer than necessary. Besides, he figured the man was grateful for the reprieve, too. They would see more than enough of each other in Hogwarts. This way, they managed to avoid any major arguments. Or to even exchange more than a few sentences per day. Snape stayed indoors mostly, reading or writing notes on parchment. Notes for lessons, he assumed, but never asked.<p>

On the fourth day of their stay, Harry was walking through the bathroom when he heard agitated voices from downstairs. Curious, he headed down the stairs, not making a sound.

"-can't turn her down! She's already got her train tickets booked!" Harry's uncle sounded frustrated and Harry imagined the unhealthy shade of purple his skin surely turned. "And they're too big to stuff 'em in the cupboard!"

"Well, maybe we could move them to the garage?" Aunt Petunia said hesitantly. "We could put a bunk bed there-"

"They can sleep on the ground for all I care!" Harry realized that they were talking about him and Snape. He paled at the thought of having to explain to Snape that they were to sleep next to the car.

"Well, how a hotel? Not for them, of course, but maybe Marge would like-"

"Preposterous! Marge is bringing that dog with her and she only gets a small benefit-"

"Aunt Marge?" Harry interrupted, stepping into the kitchen. His aunt and uncle jumped, but Harry ignored that, much too flustered. "She's not coming here, is she?"

"Yes, she bloody is," Uncle Vernon growled at him.

"When?" Harry demanded, the familiar feel of dread clawing it's way up his throat.

"Tomorrow morning. Listen, boy, if I see any sign of any weirdness going on while she is here-"

"Weirdness? Are you mad?" Harry ignored the fact that his uncle reared like an enraged walrus and glared at his aunt. "You know Snape! Him and Marge in the same house, it will be a disaster!" Aunt Petunia pursed her lips, but didn't say anything.

"No it won't! You, boy, will control both yourself and this Snape-"

"Control Snape?" Harry snorted derisively at the thought.

"You will both behave like normal, decent people!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at him, spit flying from his mouth. "I'm telling you, or else you'll both be thrown out on your behinds before you can blink!"

Harry backed away, grinding his teeth. He would have liked nothing better than to just walk out and never return. However, he thought Snape might not look too kindly on that.

"Fine," he growled, leaving the kitchen. He stomped up the stairs, his face angry enough to make Dudley scurry out of his way. He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him. Snape, who was sitting at the desk, writing, visibly jumped and blotched his paper.

"Potter!" He exclaimed, and watched as Harry paced the room, kneading his knuckles furiously.

"Would you care to enlighten my what provoked this childish fit?" Harry glowered at him, not in the mood to be goaded further. He sat down heavily on the bedside, glaring at a pair of discarded socks, as though they were responsible for the misery his life had become.

"Well?"

"My Aunt Marge is coming to visit." He answered curtly. "So don't be surprised if we will be asked to stay in the garage." He flopped backwards onto the bed.

"What is a garage?"

"Sort of an outdoor shed, I suppose. Muggles keep their cars inside." Harry gestured vaguely towards the front of the house.

"I refuse to stay in a shed, Potter!" Snape barked at him.

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Harry lifted his head to return Snape's angry glare. "My uncle just threatened to throw me out if I do something freakish while she's here! Same for you, by the way."

"Potter, is your uncle aware of the fact that excavating you from the house will leave you ripe for the picking for the Dark Lord's followers? It might be of use if you explained-"

"I don't have to, Dumbledore did," Harry interrupted, knowing how much it annoyed Snape. "They know."

"But then why would your uncle throw you out? Surely even he does not desire you to die."

Harry shrugged against the covers. "Don't be so sure."

Silence filled the room for a moment as Harry imagined his life for the next two days. Snape suddenly seemed like perfectly good company if that meant he could avoid his Aunt Marge. He shuddered as he thought of their last encounter. He wondered if she still owned that disgusting dog.

"I take it that your aunt is not pleasant company?"

"She's just like my uncle, only female." Harry raised his head again to watch Snape pull a disgusted face.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Though it won't be long, at least. She'll arrive here tomorrow, and the day after that we're leaving."

Fawkes had stopped by the other day, carrying a note in his beak, which informed Harry and Snape that they would be picked up on Monday morning and wished them both a pleasant stay. Snape had thrown the note away, muttering something about not needing a babysitter simply because he was married to a toddler. Harry had refrained from commenting, though being the more mature party was getting on his nerves.

The next day, Harry was very apprehensive. He had put on a shirt at Aunt Petunia's command. Snape had watched as Harry struggled with the buttons, the shirt hanging limply around him, as it was one of Dudley's spares. Finally, he had taken pity on him and reduced it's size with a wave of his wand. Harry had mumbled his thanks, glancing over at Snape, who made no attempt to change his casual clothing. Harry wondered if he had any, except his nightclothes and the clothes he had arrived in. Otherwise, he wore a black shirt with grey cotton slacks. He didn't really care what impression Snape made, but feared his aunt's comments. She didn't know how bad the idea of annoying Snape actually was.

"Listen," He started, wondering how to explain the whole concept of Aunt Marge to Snape. He realized he had no idea, and decided on a different topic. "How- I mean, are we going to tell her? About us, I mean."

Snape eyed him thoughtfully. "My presence would be rather difficult to explain otherwise, Potter." Then he seemed to check himself. "Harry."

Harry looked at him in surprise. Snape shrugged and stood up, pulling his shirt over his head. Harry's gaze grazed Snape's belly, which was revealed for a moment and noted the lack of hair. Snape seemed to shave his chest hair, or maybe didn't grow any. There was no hair covering his stomach, either.

"If we are to keep up pretences, we might as well do it properly."

Harry realized he was referring to his prior use of his name. "Oh, yeah, sure. S-Severus, then?"

Snape glared at him, with a touch of resignation. Harry noticed he didn't have armpit hair, either.

"I'm afraid so." He knelt next to his bag, and started rummaging inside, his arms dipping in deeper than should have been possible. "Are you going to watch me change?"

"Er, no, of course not, sorry, sir, I mean, Severus, I'll just be-" Just then, the doorbell rang and relieved Harry from his stuttering.

He stumbled downstairs, slowing once he heard the noises of the door being opened. He lingered in the living room, watching warily as an old yet still drooling Ripper waddled into the sitting room and sniffed the furniture, growling at Harry. Finally, the welcoming committee entered the sitting room and Harry stepped forward. His Aunt Marge looked just as he remembered her- fat, her many chins wobbling, badly dressed and with a thin moustache of her own. Dudley had her bag in his hand, and Harry saw a fifty-pound-note protruding from his other hand. He frowned. Just like old times then. Aunt Marge spotted him.

"What's this!" She stopped, looking Harry over critically. "I thought you turned him over to a boarding school?" She barked at her brother, clearly displeased with Harry's presence.

"Well, yes, Marge, but they're on summer break now," Uncle Vernon explained, a hint of nerves in his voice.

"Hullo, Aunt Marge," Harry said, deciding to remind them that he did have a voice, after all.

Aunt Marge threw him a filthy look. "You! Do you have a job?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "No, I'm still at school." Aunt Marge huffed.

"Not right now, you aren't! Are you too lazy to do some summer work? Still as scraggly as you were. Why is he here?" She turned towards Aunt Petunia accusingly, as though faulting her for allowing such slacking in her household. Aunt Petunia shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Good afternoon." Snape glided into the room, dressed once more in a black, well-fitting shirt and black, well-fitting trousers, though Harry noticed he hadn't bothered with shoes. He stood slightly behind Harry, a bit closer than Harry would have usually preferred. But right now, his presence was comforting. Aunt Marge gaped at Snape, apparently unprepared for his appearance.

"Who are you?" She demanded, a flush spreading on her cheeks. Harry felt it was once more his responsibility to present Snape.

"Aunt Marge, this is Professor Severus Snape," he began, unsure wherever to include his teaching position in the introduction. "He's my husband." Harry was proud that he didn't stutter around that last word. Aunt Marge gaped at them both. Snape inclined his head.

"Yes, Marge, you see, Harry and his husband are here on a little visit. They will be leaving tomorrow," Uncle Vernon said quickly.

Aunt Marge closed her mouth, apparently recovering from her shock. "So you're queer to boot, eh?" She looked at Harry with renewed disgust. "No such unnatural urges on our side of the family, no offence, Petunia. Though at least he's managed to get someone with standing," she said, looking at Snape as though he was a particular breed of dog. "Does he pay you anything for the boy's upkeep?" She asked Petunia as she turned towards the kitchen, declaring them unfit for her continued attention. "You pay his school bills and for food, he's ripping you off, isn't he-" He voice faded as they entered another room.

Harry felt his neck burn in humiliation. He glowered at the kitchen, willing his fists to unclench. Snape was looking at the kitchen door as though a particularly slimy slug had just crawled inside.

Harry stomped back upstairs without another word, Snape following close behind, not saying anything as Harry pulled off his shirt and flung it into a corner. He watched expressionless as Harry paced the room. His attention only aggravated Harry further. Feeling his self-control was about to break, he fled to the bathroom. He cooled himself literally with a cold shower until he was shivering. Only then did he return to the room.

"Better?" Snape asked him in a surprisingly civil tone. Harry nodded jerkily. He put his mind at rest by packing his things for the following day. The thought of returning to Grimmauld Place cheered him up considerably. Ron and Hermione would be there, and by the end of the week he would be leaving for Hogwarts. Harry tried hard not to think beyond that point.

Smells of cooking wafted up the stairs and Harry's heart sank. He knew they were expected to join the Dursleys for dinner, if only so that Aunt Marge could criticize him some more. He looked around for his discarded shirt, then spotted it draped neatly over the back of the chair. He started; he knew he had flung it messily on the floor, so Snape must have put it there.

"Thanks," he muttered, pulling it back on. He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. You can do this. Just think about Quidditch until it's over and tomorrow you'll see Hermione and Ron again. He squared his shoulders.

"Ready?" Snape asked him, eyes sparkling with some emotion. Harry thought it might be amusement. He nodded.

Together, they descended into the kitchen. Snape seemed to keep closer to Harry than usual. Harry appreciated the support. Aunt Petunia was putting the finishing touches on the roast beef, voices floating in from the garden. Silently, ignoring his aunt's suspicious look, he started putting out the plates. When he reached for the silver cutlery, Aunt Petunia batted at him with her spatula.

"Don't touch it!" She snarled. Harry snatched his fingers back, narrowly avoiding the hot metal. He backed away, turning beet-red. Steadying his rage, he carefully took out the wine glasses instead. Snape leaned in the doorway, showing no inclination to either go out and join the company nor to help prepare the table. He watched in silence as Harry finished his preparations, then started doing the dishes. Finally, the voices grew louder as the rest of the Dursleys entered the kitchen.

"-hit him hard and won the tournament, eh? Boxing's a fine sport, good for strong lads like you!" Aunt Marge praised Dudley, who entered the kitchen first and waddled straight for his spot. Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon came in after him, both looking very pleased. Harry noticed they both carried half-full wineglasses with them before he ducked his head again. The Dursleys sat around the table, conversing and ignoring him, for which he was grateful. Silently, he gestured for Severus to seat himself next to Dudley, leaving himself a strategic spot between Aunt Petunia and Snape. He served the food, nearly burning himself in the process.

"More wine, boy!" Uncle Vernon thundered, already flushed. Harry obliged, before shooting Severus an inquiring look. Snape took the bottle from him, sniffed it and poured himself a rather full glass. Harry privately thought he'd like to get drunk, too. He gingerly sat down, helping himself to the food.

Meanwhile, his uncle was droning on and on about his work, bothersome colleagues and taxes. Harry hoped fervently that this topic of conversation lasted long enough so that he could excuse himself from the table, feigning a stomach ache, if necessary.

"Well, I'd say you have a fine living here, fine indeed, Vernon!" Aunt Marge was even more flushed than her brother, eyes slightly glazed over as she reached for he wine glass.

"And the house looks really nice, Petunia!" She added, as though in an afterthought.

"Thank you, Marge," Aunt Petunia sniffed to Harry's right. "It's quite a lot of work, you know how boys are-"

"Boys, men, dogs, where's the difference!" Aunt Marge laughed raucously. "Speaking of which-" She hiccuped, having trouble to focus on Harry's end of the table. Harry's stomach plummeted. Here we go.

"Which school do you attend again, boy?"

"St Brutus Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Harry said dully, keeping his eyes on his food.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Aunt Marge thundered. Harry raised his gazed and met her beady eyes.

"Do they use the cane there?" Harry remembered her asking the exact same question many years ago.

"Yes."

"Hah, get beat often do you? Good, very good, there's no other way for stubborn pups!" Her eyes wandered towards Snape.

"And you- Severus, was it?- you're a teacher there?"

Snape's fingers curled around his wineglass delicately as he took another sip. "That is correct."

"So, do you discipline him?"

After a moment, Dudley started sniggering uncontrollably and Harry felt one could fry an egg on his face. Aunt Marge looked at Dudley in astonishment, then roared in laughter. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked mortified.

"Fine sense of humour, lad, very good!" She chortled, her chins wagging. Harry looked down at his food again.

"Is he one of your students?" Aunt Marge turned back to Snape, wiping away tears of laughter.

"Harry has been in my class for the last five years, yes." Harry watched Snape closely out of the corner of his eye, noting the calm expression. The wine didn't seem to affect him at all.

"He's not any good, is he?"

Snape turned his glittering eyes on Harry. His mouth curving into half a smirk, he answered, "Harry never really expressed any passion nor talent for the noble art of- chemistry."

"Maybe that's because you never bothered to grade us fairly, Prof- Severus." Harry grumbled, unsure wherever he should be angry with Snape or not.

"Don't talk back, boy!" Aunt Marge snapped at him. "Ah, don't worry, Vernon, it's not your fault, it doesn't come from our side of the family! I'm sorry Petunia, love, but I'm afraid it must be your sister. Thank God this weakness passed out on you, see what a fine boy you've got. But your sister must have been of a really low breed, I see it all the time with my dogs. If you have an filthy bitch, then her pups will be weak and dumb as well-"

Harry noticed, through his white wall of rage, that Snape had gone completely still next to him. Fighting the rush of blood in his ears, he strove not explode again and jinx her to kingdom come. Suddenly, Snape shot to his feet and Aunt Marge's tirade ended with a choking sound. Harry glanced up and saw Snape, towering over the table, a look of complete fury on his face. He was pointing his wand at Marge, who was slowly turning blue.

"Never," Snape thundered, his voice dark and dangerous, "insult Lily Evans in my presence."

Dudley had turned white at the display of magic and fled out the kitchen door into the garden. Aunt Petunia backed away against the counter, pale as a sheet. Harry watched with vindictive pleasure as Uncle Vernon grabbed Aunt Marge's arm and shook it helplessly. Aunt Marge's eyes rolled back into her head as she mouthed, still unable to breathe. As much as Harry savoured the scene, he knew it had to stop before the old cow died.

"Sna- Severus," he said, standing. "Stop." Snape showed no sign that he heard Harry, his lip still curled in fury. With a shock Harry realised Snape might not stop, whatever he said. "Severus! Stop, you'll hurt her!" He grabbed Snape's wand arm and pulled it down forcefully. That snapped him out and he rounded on Harry instead. He could feel Severus trembling in rage.

"Obliviate her!" Harry commanded, his heart pounding. Snape, to Harry's eternal surprise, raised his wand and pointed it once more at Aunt Marge, who was taking deep gasping breaths. She slumped onto her chair, chin sagging onto her chest, snoring.

"When she wakes, she won't remember what happened," Harry informed Uncle Vernon, who was staring at her. Before the situation could escalate further, he hauled Snape out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Snape janked his arm away from Harry at some point, but didn't say a word until Harry slammed the door behind then. Snape rounded on Harry.

"You let them talk like that about your mother!" Snape was still livid, but Harry's anger was more than a match for him.

"Well, what do you want me to do? I can't use magic, if I do anything they'll beat me into a pulp and toss me out on the street, for bloody Voldemort to find and play with before he kills me!" Harry felt his clenched fists tremble as he stood in front of Snape, their faces inches apart. Harry could feel Snape's body heat through the thin fabric of his shirt. A few seconds passed, then something flickered in Snape's eyes and his features slid back into an expression of controlled derision. He backed away from Harry and put his wand back into his shirt.

"You're right, Potter. My apologies." Snape took another breath and smoothed down his own shirt. Harry closed his eyes and tried to slow his heartbeat. At least it was over now.

"I must say, Potter, you possess more self-control than I ever thought possible when around that-" Snape's jaw clenched around the word, "_woman."_ He spat.

Harry snorted. "Not really," he informed Snape, sitting down on the bed. "The last time I saw her, I blew her up. That was three years ago."

Snape laughed. It was such an alien sound that Harry stared. It wasn't a chuckle or a smile, but honestly malicious laughter that ended in a snigger. "Good for you, Potter." Snape looked pleased, as though somehow Harry had risen in his reckoning. Harry stared at his teacher for a moment longer, then decided he had enough for one day and went to bed.

* * *

><p>There you go. I hope my Snape lived up to your expectations. Con-crit and comments are welcome!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

The next day they exited the room early, after Snape returned the bed to its previous state. The house was silent, except for Dudley snoring on the couch. Aunt Marge had occupied his room for the night. Apparently, she didn't remember anything and was blaming it on the alcohol. Harry was thankful for that. None of the Dursleys emerged to see Harry and Snape off. They stood silently in the front hall, Snape checking his watch periodically. Just as it struck eight, a knock rapped the door. Harry opened it and was greeted by Lupin and a pink-haired Tonks.

"Wotcher, Harry! Hello, Snape!" Harry smiled at the cheerful auror and nodded at Lupin.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Lupin's eyes flickered towards Snape. Harry threw him a glance himself and smiled as he remembered the last evening.

"Yeah. Dursley's were a nightmare, but I'm fine," he reassured the man. Lupin had s trace of a frown on his face, but returned Harry's smile.

"So, Harry, congratulations," Tonks took Harry's arm and pulled him down the Dursley's lane. "How was your honeymoon?" Tonks winked at him, then turned on the spot, pulling Harry with her. His chest compressed and alarming darkness surrounded him, then he was standing on the porch of Grimmauld Place.

She pulled him inside with a cautionary glance around. Standing in the dark hall, Harry waited for her, clutching his bag. He heard voices upstairs and he thought he heard Ron's laugh. A minute later, Remus and Snape entered the hallway, as well. Only then did Tonks gesture for Harry to proceed. The group crept past the veiled portrait of Mrs Black, then upstairs into the bright kitchen. Harry steeped into the room and blinked.

"Harry!" Hermione flung himself at him, and he hugged her, grinning as Ron slapped him on his back.

"You all right, mate?"

"Yeah, fine." Molly Weasley was there as well, cooking as usual. Harry, Tonks and Remus were greeted just as enthusiastically.

"No, no, Molly, really, I can't stay-" Remus fended off Mrs Weasley's attempts to make him stay for breakfast. "I'm on duty, I've got to get going-"

"Me too, sorry Molly," Tonks said apologetically. They excused themselves and left the kitchen, Tonks waving at the lot of them. Harry noticed that Snape was still standing by the door, somehow excluded from the whole greeting ceremony. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over to him and leaned nonchalantly on the counter next to him.

"Are you going to stay here with us?" Harry asked. Snape sneered at him.

"Not likely, Potter- I will be returning to Hogwarts on short notice."

"Oh, but you've got to stay for breakfast," Molly insisted, ushering them both to the table.

"No, thank you, Molly, I'd rather-" Snape started, but this time there was no halting Mrs Weasley's mothering instincts. Harry watched with amusement as she all but shoved Severus into the seat next to him, wondering if she was still remembering the state he had been in last week. Snape fumed silently as she piled food on his plate, without bothering to ask him how much he wanted. Harry suppressed a smile as he was subjected to the same treatment.

"Harry," Hermione slid into the seat opposite him, her bushy hair wild. "Did it go alright? I'm sorry I didn't write, but we thought it would be best if we didn't do anything that might get your uncle mad-"

"It's fine," Harry said, tucking in. "It was alright, I guess. They were quite decent, most of the time, maybe because there was two of us." He glanced at Snape, who eating in silence, paying no attention.

"That's good then," Ron said, casting a wary look at Snape. He looked back at Harry curiously, and Harry shook his head lightly. Later. Ron nodded.

"We got your stuff for you," Ron said, gesturing upstairs. "School stuff, I mean. New robes and books."

"You went to Diagon Alley?," Harry said with a twinge of jealousy. He would have loved to visit that crowded street again.

"Yeah, we went to Flourish and Blotts," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling. "They've reopened a whole new section on medieval wizarding books and Defence Against The Dark Arts books!"

"We had to drag her away," Ron informed Harry darkly. Harry laughed and let his friends voices wash over him, a warmth settling in his stomach. Come what may, he still had this.

Snape excused him as soon as his plate was empty and whooshed off towards the fireplace, disappearing via Floo.

Now sooner did the sound of his departure fade, Ron leaned forward. "Are you alright, mate?" His voice was concerned. "He didn't – try anything, did he?"

"Ron!" Hermione sounded scandalized.

"No, of course not!" Harry looked at the sincere concern on Ron's face, aghast. The thought that Snape would have wanted to touch him hadn't even occurred to him. And while his relationship with the man could be described with 'strained' at best, the idea of Snape forcing himself onto Harry was- absurd. Molly Weasley smacked her son on the head with her dishcloth.

Ron cringed. "Ow! Well, I wouldn't have put it past that git to try something," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Professor Snape is a man of honour, Ron," Mrs Weasley warned her son. "You'd better not let him hear you throw this kind of accusations around, and I won't stand for it either! Or have you already forgotten that he saved your lives just a few days ago?"

"Okay, okay," Ron backtracked, raising his hands in defence, but didn't look convinced.

"No, really, Ron, he was alright, really great by his standards," Harry assured him. "He touched me once, when we were in bed-" Hermione started in alarm, "But it was only to wake me up. I was having a nightmare. That's all." Mrs Weasley nodded calmly, but Hermione's concern didn't fade.

"I didn't realize that you were sleeping in the same bed," she said faintly. Harry opened his mouth, then shrugged. "It's not that bad, really. I barely know he's there. Waking up is a bit awkward, though."

"Kick him in your sleep," Ron muttered and Harry laughed. They chattered on while Harry quickly finished off his bacon and eggs. He thanked Mrs Weasley and the three of them retreated into Harry's and Ron's room.

"Thank God you're back, Harry, I was bored stiff here," Ron said, sprawling on his bed . Hermione sat next to him, pushing his legs aside.

"At least you've got your homework finished now," she sniffed. Harry grinned.

"What did you do all day with Snape, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Did he make you study Potions?" Ron asked, as the new horrifying possibility dawned on him.

"No, I didn't do much at all with him, really. I avoided him, mostly," Harry answered. "Besides," he turned to Ron, darkly, "it's not Potions he will be worried about now." He told them about Snape taking over DADA. When he was finished, Hermione looked thoughtful and Ron wary.

"I wonder why Dumbledore finally let him get the job," Hermione mused.

"Maybe he got sick of him whining about it," Ron said. "Or he was fed up with everyone failing Potions."

"So then they'll be failing Defence Against the Dark Arts instead," Hermione said.

"Oh, I'd really like to see him fail me in Defence," Harry said grimly. "Or anyone from the DA, for that matter."

"Are you going to continue it, Harry? I mean, the DA," Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, there's really no point now, is there? I mean, now that we've got a 'decent' teacher again."

"It was fun," Ron said wistfully.

"Yeah Harry, I really learned a lot,"Hermione said earnestly.

"Well, we can always see what the others think," Harry said, unwilling to make any kind of announcements now.

"So how did Snape get along with your Muggles, then?" Ron grinned, returning to their previous topic. "Did they like the slimy addition to their family?"

Harry chuckled. "I doubt they'll be pleased now. My Aunt Marge was visiting. She really hates me. Anyway, she was having a go at my Mum, and Snape nearly throttled her. Oh, him and my Mum were great friends when they were kids, apparently." Harry told them the whole story, by the end of which Ron was roaring in laughter and Hermione looked appalled.

"I take it back, mate," Ron sniggered. "Snape is the best thing that could have happened to you. Maybe now that he's married to you, he'll be on our side!"

"He was always on our side, Ron!" Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "And I think that his behaviour was really irresponsible! He could have seriously hurt your aunt!"

"I don't give a damn," Harry said bluntly. "But the Dursleys could have thrown us both out, so I told him to stop."

"And he listened?" Ron smirked. "Mate, this is brilliant. Soon you'll just say 'Heel, boy' and he'll have to give Gryffindor lots of points." Harry laughed.

* * *

><p>The week passed pleasantly and Harry was almost sorry to leave the peace of the musty house. He knew the news of his nuptials would have already spread throughout the wizarding world- both Dumbledore and Snape had hinted that they expected trouble to come of it. Harry mostly feared the reaction of his fellow classmates. He had spent so much time being shunned and talked about, he was almost used to it- but being the suspected heir of Slytherin seemed perfectly harmless in comparison to being the actual partner of Severus Snape.<p>

They were escorted to the King's Cross by both the Weasley parents, Mad-Eye, Tonks and Remus. Frankly, Harry thought they would have been safer alone and unguarded, considering all the attention they attracted.

"Bye then, Harry," said Tonks, brightly. Her hair was green for a change, tinged with blue.

"Take care," Lupin said softly, patting his back. Both Mr and Mrs Weasley embraced him in farewell.

"-don't forget to eat regularly, do your homework and _stay out of trouble._" She gave them a last glare, before a whistle sounded and they hastily jumped aboard. A minute later, the train was moving and they saw the waving crowd disappear as the train went around a bend.

"Come on," Harry said, eager to get out of the corridor. Already, people were beginning to stare and whisper.

"Prefect duty, remember Harry?" Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "We'll catch up with you later."

Grudgingly, Harry spent the time with Luna and Neville, discussing school and Quidditch. Harry was beginning to think he might just get away, when Luna, in her usual dreamy voice, said, "Oh, and Harry, I'm sorry, I've been rude. Congratulations on your marriage!"

Harry blushed and examined his shoes. "Thanks, Luna."

"Harry, I-" he looked up, and Neville turned from completely pale to beet-red. "I'm-, I'm-"

"It's all right, Neville," Harry said, taking pity on Neville's stuttering.

"But _why?_" Neville had a desperate look about him. "I mean, why _him?_"

Harry opened his mouth, wondering wherever to say something stupid like 'because I _love _him' just to see the look on their faces. But he opted for the truth.

"Look guys, you have to promise not to tell anyone, but-" and he told them about how Snape saved them at the Burrow.

"-but he cursed Snape and we couldn't break it, not even Dumbledore. But it turned out that my protective charms were strong enough for the both of us." Harry shrugged. "Hermione said it had something to do with the deep magic or something. Anyway, I couldn't just let him die. Not after he saved Ron, Hermione and me. So I married him."

"Wow, Harry, that's really- brave," Neville said in awe. Harry smiled faintly. For Neville, marrying Snape would have to be the most terrifying thing on earth, more frightening than Voldemort and all his Death Eaters combined.

"It was a very nice thing to do, Harry," Luna said absent-mindedly, ruffling around in her bags, then pulling out the newest edition of _The Quibbler._ Harry smiled as the door slid open and a second year passed them a note before disappearing again. The note was from Professor Slughorn, who had invited him and Neville to his compartment.

As they entered, they were greeted by mixed-house students, Ginny among them. Harry soon realized every one of them had some kind of connection to a famous or influential person. His heart sank- he suspected the Professor wanted his own chance to interview Harry. He sat next to Ginny, who looked just as gloomy as he felt.

"How come you're here? I mean-" he felt a heat rising up his cheeks. Ginny shot him a dirty look. He hadn't seen her since he had been married to Snape. Apparently, she hadn't taken the news all to well. Well, she had no right to, he thought irritably. They had gone out with each other, last year, true, had kissed and had- done other things, but ever since Sirius' death- A girlfriend hadn't been high on Harry's priority list then. They had avoided each other politely while at the Burrow. Apparently, she had harboured some hopes about them getting back together.

"He saw me do a Bat-Bogey-curse on Anthony Steward. He was impressed." Then she looked away.

Harry sat next to her in awkward silence, unwilling to mingle with the others. Neville was currently being asked about his relationship to his grandmother and other relatives. Harry noticed he had started to sweat rather strongly. Finally, as though leaving the greatest sensation for the end, Slughorn approached Harry.

"Harry Potter," he boomed audibly, and Harry cringed. He glanced at Ginny, who shot him a vaguely sympathetic look. "The Chosen One."

Harry fought the urge to close his eyes in mortification. "How have you been?"

"Uh, fine, sir," he mumbled, willing it to be over soon.

"More than fine, I should think! Congratulations, my boy, on getting betrothed!" He slapped Harry on his back. Harry felt himself blush and hoped it would be rather counted as, as, as youthful happiness or some crap like that instead of the clawing urge to jump out of the window that he was really experiencing.

"Severus Snape, eh? A fine man from a fine family, very old." Slughorn nodded, as though any of it might be of significance to Harry. "Quite a catch he found in you, indeed."

Harry had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn't, his blush firmly in place. He heard a snigger behind him. "I imagine you're quite pleased. Not that the Potter line is any less dignified, of course- and your mother, Lily, was rather brilliant at Potions, I remember, very gifted girl-" Slughorn droned on, and Harry did little more than to nod at times. Finally, he was dismissed and fled the wagon, noticing Ginny headed off in the opposite direction.

Later, when the carriages had finally dumped them off at the castle stairs, he made his way up to the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione at his sides. He held his head low, trying to ignore the whispers that followed him. He sat down heavily, glaring at his empty plate. He resolutely ignored the staff table, watching as the Sorting proceeded and clapped politely as every new Gryffindor joined their table. Finally the food appeared, and Harry tucked in, hungry, as he had missed the food wagon.

"I wonder what we'll be doing in Transfiguration this year," Hermione said, looking eagerly at the staff table.

"You don't have to wonder," Ron answered gruffly, piling up food on his plate. "You've already read the book."

Harry followed Hermione's gaze and his eyes automatically sought out Snape. The man was focused on his plate, looking more sour than ever. Harry guessed he was not pleased at all the publicity both of them were receiving. At least he was used to this madness- and Snape was anything if not private. Harry sighed. Snape would blame him for this, for sure.

The feast went on until finally, the plates were empty and the noise level rose as most people stopped eating and started talking instead. Only then did Dumbledore stand up to deliver his opening speech. Harry barely listened, focusing on the coming hours instead. Despite already having spent a week in Snape's company, his stomach fluttered when he thought about the next term. At Privet Drive, he and Snape had been as much equals as they had ever been, despite the fact that Snape could use magic- they both had been dependent on the Dursleys and that had made them allies. But now, back at Hogwarts, Snape was a teacher again, a figure of authority. Powerful enough to make Harry's life a living hell, now even more so than ever. Harry gulped nervously.

The polite clapping and shoving of benches announced the end of Dumbledore's speech- Ron and Hermione stood up on his side, rounding up the first-years to guide them up to the Common Room.

"See you tomorrow," Harry said dully, then headed off towards the teacher's quarters. He remembered what they had looked like when they had still been Lupin's, then later Umbridge's. At least he could be sure Snape had gotten rid of any porcelain cats.

He stood in front of the office door, staring at it. He took a deep breath, then knocked.

"Come."

He opened the door, stepping into the teachers office. It was as he expected it to be- bookshelves, a desk, teaching posters outlining the critical points of a Shield Charm in relation to a wizard's body- standard teaching equipment, probably some relics left behind by former teachers. The door at the back of the office was ajar. Harry approached it, the threw in a cautious peak.

The adjacent sitting room was rather large, more so than he remembered it. The fireplace was alight in flames, a comfy looking couch as well as an armchair sitting in front of it. Harry let his eyes wander: Bookshelves, another small desk, a few chairs, a tea table, boxes- nothing out of the usual. Apparently, Snape had yet to settle in permanently. Harry had to look twice before he found the man, who was sorting in more books into the shelves.

"Mr Potter," he said, without turning round. Harry edged into the room, looking around. In the back, there was another door that led undoubtedly to the bedroom. Their bedroom. Harry swallowed.

"Professor Snape, sir." Finally, Snape turned around, and looked at Harry. He couldn't make out the man's expression in the dark, but he thought he heard a soft sigh.

"Mr Potter, there is no need to call me 'Professor' or 'sir' while we're in these quarters," Snape stated, and Harry thought for a moment the man sounded- tired?

"What shall I call you then, si-?" Harry bit his lip.

"Whatever you might desire to, Potter," Snape drawled, sounding more like his usual self as he moved forward, stepping into the firelight. "Although I might ask you to retain your more colourful insults, as we have to maintain a façade of liking each other."

"Harry." Harry said.

Snape looked at him, eyebrow raised as though doubtful of his sanity.

"Don't call me Potter, call me Harry," Harry explained. "Please," he added, in an afterthought.

Snape's other eyebrow joined it's counterpart and disappeared beneath Snape's hairline.

"If you insist- Harry." His tone still suggested Harry was slightly insane.

"It's just-" Harry struggled with the need to explain himself, "I know you're thinking about my father when you use that name. And I'm not. My father, I mean." He clamped his mouth shut, feeling what a blathering idiot. Snape's mouth curved into a belittling smile.

"Feeling insightful today, are we?" He walked over to the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs, grabbing a scroll of parchment from one of the low tables. "It's late," he said pointedly.

"Right," Harry said sheepishly. He went on into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. With a wave of his wand he lit the candles and scrutinized the room. A king-sized bed dominated the scene, blue bedsheets. Two bedside tables. Brown closets, with his trunk standing neatly in front of one. A door on the far side.

* * *

><p>Severus reclined in the armchair, resting the scroll on his lap. He didn't even know what it contained. He gazed at the fire and listening for any sounds that might surpass the crackle of the flames. After a short while, he heard water running in the bathroom, then silence again. He closed his eyes. And so the rest of his sodding life began. It would be like this from now on, the boy and him. The golden boy and the dungeon bat, even though he had changed his lair. He grimaced in distaste as he remembered the speculation the Prophet had published the days following their 'honeymoon'. He hadn't even dared look at the tabloids. Usually, he was portrayed as the greedy man who had gotten his hands on an innocent and susceptible boy, other times as the lucky man who won the boys heart, the guardian in disguise. One very twisted article had claimed Harry had orchestrated the marriage to gain influence in Hogwarts politics and strengthen his ties to Albus Dumbledore, who was Snape's known patron- as though the brat needed him to worm his way to Dumbledore. He had accomplished that before he had even been able to control his bowl movements.<p>

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose- he was weary and wanted to go to bed. However, Potter might still be awake and he didn't want to bother the boy with his presence. Merlin, he had looked so frightened just the other moment- his defiant, disobedient, disrespectful manner, Snape knew how to deal with. His insecurity was something completely different. Almost out of habit, Snape would have liked to crush him and his petty fan-club. But he couldn't. He was now bound to the boy, and had spent more time with him than was advisable for his mental health. How otherwise would one explain his lack of taunts and general looming over the boy, hacking at his every frightened comment, relishing the opportunity to finally punish the insolent prat for his all his misgivings?

And of course the boy had chosen this night to be perceptive, possibly a side-effect of the fear. He would never come to associate the name Potter with anything less than loathing. Quite clever of the boy to insist he call him by his given name, distancing himself from everything Snape hated. Though seeing the way those Muggle relatives of him treated him, it wasn't surprising that certain survival skills had ingrained themselves into the boy's subconscious. He shifted uncomfortably as images of his own childhood came to mind, but he pushed them away. He rubbed his chin absent-mindedly. This term would be very different from the one before- no more summons from Voldemort, no more watching him torture, maim and kill. He was of a much smaller value to the order now, he knew. But it still came with a small relief, that he was allowed to distance himself from the horror he had seen. And now fight it openly. He listened again- the room was utterly silent. He dimmed the fire with his wand, then entered the bedroom, relying only on the moonlight and his memory to guide him.

As he crossed the room towards the bedroom, he saw that the boy had chosen the same side of the bed that he had occupied in his Uncle's house, namely the right. He washed and changed, trying not to think too much, then re-entered the room. He quietly slipped under the covers, trying not to disturb the bed. The boy had his back turned to him, covers drawn all the way up. Although Severus couldn't see more of him than a blob of untidy black hair, he was sure the boy was still awake. He lay on his back and stared on the ceiling, wondering if he should say something. But what was there to say? He closed his eyes and willed his weariness to take over.

The next day was horrible for Harry, and he guessed it was no better for Snape. Stares and whispers followed him wherever he went even more so than last night. Some of the younger students didn't even try to hide their pointing fingers. Snape had already disappeared when he woke up, their quarters vacant. He ate breakfast with Ron and Hermione, went to his lessons, endured Transfiguration, which was bearable. Maybe because McGonagall was an order member and knew of the circumstances that had forced Harry. In Defence, Snape ignored Harry, only criticizing Harry and Ron when both of them failed to cast any spell without uttering the incantation aloud. He refrained from taking points from Harry, pummelling the other Gryffindors. Only Hermione escaped his wrath, since she mastered the task almost immediately.

Red in the face with anger and exhaustion, Harry reasoned that he couldn't snap at Snape- it just wouldn't do and he'd pay for it later.

The day reached a new low after lunch, when he had his Potions class with Slughorn. And the Slytherins.

"Hey Potter," Malfoy's voice greeted Harry before he even fully entered the corridor in front of their classroom. "Potter, tell me, is it true what they say about wizards with long noses?" His house mates sniggered. Harry clenched his fists.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron was at his side in a moment, glaring at Malfoy. The blond boy sneered at him.

"Are you jealous, Weasley? Maybe you could ask Potter if you could join him and Snape, you could earn some extra credit, just bend over the desk!"

Harry and Ron both started forward, but were stopped by Hermione, who clung to their arms.

"Don't," she whispered. "He's not worth it!"

"Oh, don't worry, Granger," Malfoy drawled, as Crabbe and Goyle stomped to his side. "He wouldn't touch you, even a traitor like Snape wouldn't touch a Mudblood like you!"

"How's your father, Malfoy? I've heard Azkaban suits him really well," Harry spat, straining against Hermione's grip. "I bet the Dementors fancy him, coward that he is!"

Malfoy's pale face reddened and he whipped out his wand. "Don't talk about my father, Potter!" He snarled. Harry pulled out his wand, facing Malfoy.

"What's going on here?" Professor Slughorn appeared behind the Slytherins, craning his short neck to see over their heads.

"Nothing, Professor," Hermione piped up, forcing Harry's wand arm down. Malfoy lowered his arm, as well, still glowering at Harry.

"Ah, Gryffindors and Slytherins," Slughorn chuckled, his huge belly wobbling. "Little rivalries were common even when I was a student. But you must not let them escalate, I'm sure a bright student like yourself knows that, right, Harry?"

"Of course, sir," Harry said, not taking his eyes off Malfoy's furious face.

"Come on then, come on in," Slughorn lead the way into the classroom. He spent the rest of the lesson first explaining the Potion, then walking the room and examining their work, chatting with students as he walked. The atmosphere couldn't have been different than in Snape's class and Harry found himself relaxing, even as the Slytherins shot him dirty looks and the occasional rat's testicle. With Hermione's help, he managed to brew an acceptable Potion. Slughorn nodded approvingly as he sniffed Harry's results.

"Bit on the thick side, Harry, my lad, but a good start! Maybe there's of your mother in you than just her eyes."

"Yeah, her foul blood," someone hissed across from the Slytherin side of the room. But even as Harry whipped around angrily, he couldn't make out the culprit. All the Slytherins seemed to be smirking.

"Something of the matter, Harry?" Slughorn followed his gaze.

"No, sir," Harry muttered. "Thank you."

He accompanied Ron and Hermione to dinner, then to the Gryffindor Common Room. It felt strange to come here only now, instead of crossing it every time he went to or from his dormitory. He thought with a pang that his bed might now be empty and occupied by somebody else. When he asked Ron about it, his friend shrugged.

"It was empty last evening," he informed Harry. "But I dunno, maybe they'll someone there who had a row with his dorm-mates, or something." He flopped his Transfiguration book open and groaned as he read the assignment. Hermione was already scribbling something on her piece of parchment. Harry threw one wistful look at the staircase leading up to his former room and started working.

"Hey, Harry!" Harry looked up, almost finished with his transfiguration essay. Dean and Seamus approached him. They waved and Harry grinned.

"We were just wondering, what about the DA?" Seamus looked at him expectantly, as they flopped down at the same table. Hermione shot them an annoyed look. "When's the the first meeting?"

"Er-" Harry gazed uncertainly from one eager face to the other. "I wasn't sure if I was going to continue it, at all- Now that Umbrigde is gone, there's really no point-"

"Rubbish," Dean interrupted him rudely. "D'you know what kind of waste of time this year is going to be? Besides, it was loads of fun!"

"Did wonders for my grades, too,"Seamus added thoughtfully. "I mean, Snape might be better than Umbridge, but he still doesn't let us actually _do _anything, right?"

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Look, guys, I'll think about it. I'll let you know when I decide, alright?" His housemates nodded.

"Speaking of Snape, is it true?" Seamus cracked a grin. "Did you really marry him?"

Quenching his desire to scowl, he opted for something that he hoped was an embarrassed, but happy smile. "Yeah, we got married this summer."

Dean and Seamus shared a look of complete puzzlement, then Dean's face turned smug and he held out a hand. Grumbling, Seamus, took out a few coins and slapped them into Deans hand. Winking, Dean pocketed them. "Hah, I knew it! Seamus never wanted to believe me when I told him you played for our team."

Harry looked from one to the other, trying to keep track of events. After a few seconds he finally got it. "Oh, you and Seamus are- I mean, I never knew-" He shut his mouth and felt heat rise up his face as Ron laughed and slapped his back.

"Yeah, we got together last year," Seamus said smugly, throwing Dean an appreciative look. Dean simply grinned and took Seamus' hand. "I just had to convince him that I can give him things a girl can't," he added with a leer. Hermione turned pink over her book, while Ron seemed undisturbed by the innuendo.

"But, Snape-" Dean shuddered. "Sorry, mate, but it is kinda weird, innit? He's our teacher!" Harry shrugged helplessly; there was no denying that.

"It just, sort of- happened," he said helplessly.

"And after it did, you just decided to get married?" Seamus demanded, an evil glint in his eye.

Harry felt sweat break out on his back as he tried to follow Seamus track of thought.

"Well, everything else would have resulted in a scandal," Hermione explained, and Harry shot her a grateful look. "The didn't want to end it, or hide it, so they made it official." Ron nodded in affirmation of the lie.

Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, to each her own, I guess, right? So, Harry, how_ is_ Snape, really?" He and Seamus leaned forward and Harry thought he might as well die now, because if Snape found out he had been spreading rumours about their sex life, he would kill him with his bare hands.

"Guys," Harry said pleadingly, ruffling his hair in despair. "Come on, you know I can't talk about that! He's your teacher, too!" Ron sniggered, but pretended to cough when Harry shot him a dirty look.

"Yeah," Seamus said, still grinning. "And now all I'll be able to think about in class is what exactly he is doing to you when the two of you are alone in bed-"

Harry groaned as Ron and Dean roared in laughter. But at least they were still talking to him, he reasoned, as he pointedly returned to his homework.

"See that you make him happy, Harry," Dean said, winking again, as he stood up.

"Yeah," Seamus agreed, taking Dean's hand. "Maybe he'll stop taking so many points from Gryffindor if one of us _performs _well."

They exited through the portrait hole, together. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione and saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

"Oh, shut up," he mumbled and opened his book on Defence with more force than necessary.

* * *

><p>Finally, his work was finished, he was as adequately prepared for the next day as he was ever going to be and after losing two of three chess matches to Ron, Harry thought he couldn't put it off any longer. It was getting dark outside and he saw Hagrid's hut was lit. Making a mental note to visit him soon, Harry bid Ron goodnight and made his way towards Snape's quarters, his foul mood slowly returning. He reckoned that Dean and Seamus were not the only students who had been out of focus today in Snape's lessons. Oh bloody hell.<p>

He knocked at the office door, but no one answered. Figuring this was as much his rooms as Snape's, he pushed the door open and entered. The office was empty and the door towards the sitting room closed. Harry eyed the doorknob for a moment as though it might bite him, wondering if he should knock. In the end, he simply opened the door, but slowly. The fire was lit once more, the chaos no different than it had been in the morning. Snape himself was seated in the armchair in front of the fire, in his teaching robes. Harry eyed the man's expression carefully. Angry, yes, sour, yes, but no more so than usual. Maybe it hadn't been so bad after all.

"Hello," he said nervously, then cleared his voice when it came out higher than intended.

"Harry," Snape acknowledged him dryly, his gaze not leaving the fire. In his hand there was curved glass filled with some amber liquid.

"What are you drinking?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself. He stepped closer to the fire and slipped into the opposite armchair.

"Alcohol," Snape answered bluntly, then took another sip and shuddered. He still refused to look at Harry.

"Oh," Harry said, unsure what he was supposed to say now. "So... your day wasn't good then?"

Snape looked at him critically. Harry noticed his gaze was slightly bleary and he wondered how many of those glasses he'd already had. "One could say that," he mused. "I suppose I could've done without the two Howlers and seven letters, all from parents complaining that I am child molester and molest children." He stared at the flames again. Harry felt his jaw slacken. Wow. Snape was plastered.

"Uhm, well, they're stupid," he said firmly. "I'm not a child and you're not molesting me."

Snape looked at him again and attempted a sneer, though it turned out slightly lopsided. "Damn right I'm not! And you'd do well to remember that, Potter! Harry. Harry Potter!" He downed the glass and cringed. Harry bit his tongue and tried not to smile. He noticed that Snape had some strange, convoluted accent when he was drunk. And his sentences were much shorter.

"Prof- Snape, you've got classes tomorrow," Harry reminded him gently. It was like rousing a hungry Buckbeak, but without a bag of dead rats to hide behind. Be careful, or he'll trample you and feast on your entrails. "Maybe you should call it a day and go to bed."

Snape glared at him, obviously having trouble focusing on his face. "Are you telling me what to do?" He demanded.

"No, sir," Harry answered, smiling. He stood up and offered Snape a hand. "I'm just- suggesting."

Snape grunted, then stood up with difficulty, ignoring Harry's hand. He stood, swaying, then nearly toppled over as he took a step. Harry quickly stepped to his side, steadying him. He held Snape's waist and noticed how thin it was.

"Alright there?"

Snape had his eyes closed and a death-grip on Harry. He nodded, though Harry saw his jaw working. "Dizzy," he muttered, opening his eyes again. He looked down at Harry. "Feeling me up, Potter?"

"Yes, Snape," Harry answered dryly, guiding Snape towards their bedroom. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long." Then he wondered if such statement were a good idea; Snape might be too far gone to appreciate sarcasm.

Snape shoved Harry away and swayed his way to the bedroom. Or maybe not. He started unbuttoning his robes, thinking about the next day. Snape would have a massive hangover, he was sure of it. Tomorrow was going to be hell for the both of them, unless- he started doing his buttons up again. Madame Pomfrey was sure to have something against hangovers. Or maybe Slughorn- he'd give Harry anything he wanted if he joined his little celebrity club. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly curfew and he didn't want to explain why he was wandering the halls with hangover medicine. He rummaged in his trunk and pulled out his father's cloak.

He rapped on the matron's office, mouth dry. Madame Pomfrey opened the door and frowned when she saw Harry. "Potter? What's the matter, are you hurt?"

"No," he said quickly. "It's just, I need something against- a hangover." He paused awkwardly as the matron pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Have you been drinking?" She asked fiercely, eyes scanning him for signs of intoxication. "Or are you just planning to?"

"No, neither," Harry said, praying his excuse would be enough. "It's just one of my friends, he's really homesick and he got his hands on a bottle of firewhisky and well-" He shrugged. "I just want to make sure he'll make it through the lessons tomorrow." He waited, his heart pounding. Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms in front of her chest, frowning. "How old is your friend, exactly?" She inquired. "Uhm, sixteen?" Harry tried to remember what the legal age for drinking alcohol was. He was sure Snape surpassed it, though.

"And he's suffering from homesickness?" The matron raised an eyebrow.

Harry watched his cover story crumble into ruins.

"He's really troubled...?" He suggested weakly. Madame Pomfrey snorted, but backed away into her office. To Harry's amazement, she returned with a vial of turquoise liquid.

"Tell your friend he's not getting any more," she warned Harry before she handed him the medicine. "He's to take it tomorrow morning, before breakfast. Not that he'd want to eat anything before he takes this, anyway. If you can, give him something to drink now. Water," she clarified. "And if I here a word about alcohol abuse this term, Potter, I'll know who to look for!" She thundered, giving him a threatening glare.

"Yes, of course, thank you!" Harry ducked out of the office and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Carefully putting the medicine into his pocket, he took out his cloak from under his robes. Hopefully Snape hadn't killed himself in the bathroom.

Snape was lying on the bed, spread-angled, in his pyjamas. He was stretched across both sides and snoring lightly. Harry frowned, then put the medicine on Snape's bedside table, along with a glass full of water. He cautiously reached out to grab Snape's shoulder and gave it a light shake. Snape grunted but didn't wake.

"Snape!" Harry said crossly, jolting him harder. "Snape, wake up!"

"Gerrof me, Potter," Snape muttered flinging an arm across his head and nearly punching Harry in the nose.

"Snape, wake up! You can't sleep like this!" Well, he could, but Harry couldn't. With a final tumble, Snape awoke.

"What?" He snapped, and for a shocking moment sounded sober. But when he looked up, Harry saw his eyes were foggy. Still drunk then.

"Here, get on your side of the bed," Harry said irritably. He helped a grumbling Snape put his legs on the right side of the bed and helped him sit up against the headboard.

"Drink this," he ordered, shoving the glass of water into Snape's hands. Snape drank a tiny gulp, then rested his head again, eyes sliding shut.

"All of it!" Harry snapped, becoming impatient. When the hell did he become the responsible one in this marriage? He was sixteen, for the love of Merlin! It was supposed to be the other way around. On the other hand, nobody had accused him of being a paedophile. Harry sighed as Snape obediently gulped down almost three quarters of the glass. Discreetly, Harry filled it again with his wand.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Snape looked down at his glass and frowned in confusion, then drank some more, until the water was gone. Deciding that was enough, Harry took the glass from him.

"Alright. Er- well done," he said awkwardly. "Good night!" He fled into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Snape opened his eyes and groaned. Then he groaned some more. Merlin, what had he been thinking? His head pounded with every heartbeat and his stomach felt as though he had drunk pure acid last night, not rum. Gingerly, he sat up and waited until the world stopped spinning. Heavens. He massaged his temples, trying to remember what he had done last night. He had read through those horrible, stupid letters, then he had taken out the bottle of rum. He had waited for the boy to return, and when he didn't, come to the conclusion he was avoiding him. Which led to more rum.<p>

Bloody hell, this had to stop. First he managed to blow up his cover, Potter and his lackeys had to save him. Then this bothersome curse, from which he saved by the sacrificial marriage, again by Potter's graces. Next, he nearly killed Potter's aunt for spouting those atrocities about Lily, and had to be stopped by Potter. And now the boy looked out for him when he got drunk. Snape buried his face in his hands.

At some point the boy had come home and put him to bed. Snape felt his cheeks heat uncomfortably at that thought. Then the idiot boy had woken him again and forced him to drink some water. As though that would be any good, he was hungover, anyway. He set he legs out of the bed, thinking he would go to the bathroom and wash up when he noticed the vial neatly sitting on his bedside table.

He nearly knocked it over as he grabbed for it and pulled off the stopper in impatience. He downed the contents in one go, grimacing at the extremely salty taste. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing his stomach to cease cramping, then pressure within his skull faded considerably. The nausea subsided and when he opened his eyes, the room had stopped spinning. Severus sighed in relief, cradling the vial between his two hands.

"Better?" A voice asked timidly from behind him. As he looked around Harry stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. He was already dressed in his school uniform.

"Considerably, thank you," Snape answered, eyeing the boy suspiciously as he simply nodded and turned towards his school bag.

"Did you get me this?" He asked, somewhat foolishly. After all, who else should be responsible for the treatment?

"Yeah," Harry answered, and looked somewhat uncomfortable. "Madame Pomfrey gave it to me."

"You told who it was for?" Snape felt anger and embarrassment rise up his throat- drinking on the first day of school, if this got out-

"No," Harry said quickly. "I'm not that stupid, you know. I'd like to live to see the weekend. I told her it was for a friend of mine."

"Well, then she'll never guess it was for me," Snape dead panned, looking down at the empty bottle.

"Thank you, Pot- Harry," Snape said stiffly, still gazing at the bottle. "I apologize for allowing myself to deteriorate into such a state last night. It won't happen again."

"That's alright," Harry said, and Snape noticed he was not looking at him, either. "If someone accused me of mistreating my students-" Harry shrugged and looked at Snape. "I'd probably broken something."

"It's no excuse," Snape said firmly, keeping sick feeling in his guts at bay.

Again, the boy shrugged. "I'm going down for breakfast." And with that, he was out the door.

* * *

><p>Here you go, sorry for the delay. Real life, you know the story.<p>

When writing, I'm aiming for humorous more often than not- tell me, am I succeeding? Have a line you liked in particular or found funny? Go on, tell me!


	5. Chapter 5

The week passed in a blur. Snape had his hands full with organizing a completely new subject and spent most evenings working on his lesson schedule. Potter seemed to go out of his way to spend his days outside of their shared chambers and returned each evening just before curfew. Snape always waited for some time then, making sure the boy was decent and in bed before he prepared himself in the bathroom. They never said a word in bed and Potter didn't have any nightmares, as far as Severus could tell.

The whole routine had Severus on edge- he was high strung from stress and this whole manner felt forced and uncomfortable to him. Now his own quarters weren't safe any more, since Potter could storm in any minute and disturb him. Not that he had done so, to be fair, but the possibility still existed.

Thus he wasn't sure wherever to dread or welcome the weekend, in which he would be able to get ahead on his work schedule, but which would leave him bereft of a reason to leave his quarters. Where would he go? His old potions lab? Severus felt trapped.

He moodily wrote a scathing comment under a homework essay. Idiot student. But even that didn't cheer him up. He put the note on the pile of the corrected homework when the door burst open.

"What-" he started angrily, when Potter, a bloodied handkerchief held to bis face, stormed past him and into his chambers. Granger and Weasley were close behind him, starting at the sight of him, then hurrying after Harry. Unnerved by the sight of blood on his husband, he followed. Harry was sitting on the couch, angrily dabbing his face with the soiled handkerchief.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he growled as the Granger girl scooted next to him and patted his back, looking around curiously. The Weasley boy plunked down in what Snape considered his armchair with boundless insolence.

"At least you got him back, that little bugger will still be scratching his ar-

"Ron!"

"-himself next week," the boy said, not without a certain vindictive pleasure.

"Here, Harry, let me see," Granger gently took the handkerchief from him and examined Harry's swollen nose. Harry sighed and Severus saw his eyes slide close as he surrendered to his friend's touch. His nose was blotchy, but the bleeding had stopped. It occurred to Snape that the boy had a tired look on his face. Resigned, perhaps. The Granger girl flicked her wand and the dried blood disappeared from Harry's face. Impressive, Snape mused. The Granger girl could be dangerous if she ever realised her true potential.

"Thanks, Hermione," Potter said, opening his eyes and smiling crookedly at her. Snape's stomach clenched. He cleared his throat and stepped through the door. It fell shut behind him.

"Would one of you be so kind as to enlighten me as to why Mr Potter's face is in a rather sorry state," he said smoothly, adapting the tone he usually used on misbehaving Slytherins. The three Gryffindors jumped, obviously having forgotten his presence.

"Er, um, Professor Snape," the Weasley boy began, his face starting to match the colour of his hair. Oh, my, Severus thought. They would actually try to deceive him. "We were just on our way down to dinner when Harry, um-"

"Stumbled," Granger interjected quickly.

"Against a wall." Weasley nodded fervently.

Harry looked at them, disbelief clear on his face. Snape simply raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to smirk at their pathetic attempt of a cover-up.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, I suggest you go attend that dinner," Snape said, moving further into the room. "Mr Potter will be joining you shortly."

They both opened their mouths, Snape was sure, to protest.

"It's alright," Harry said, with a tired voice. "Just go, and I'll see you later. Meet me in the library, yeah?" The pair of them nodded uncertainly. Especially Weasley seemed to have a hard time leaving, as he hovered at the door, throwing hard glares at Snape.

"Today, Mr Weasley," Snape snapped and the red-head let himself be pulled away by his friend. They closed the door behind them and Snape turned back to Potter.

"Look," the boy started speaking before Severus had even opened his mouth. "Give me detention if you like, but keep Ron and Hermione out of it, they didn't do anything!"

Snape gaped at the boy for a moment, at loss of what to say. "Contrary to your belief, Potter, my sole pleasure is not handing out detentions left and right as they come." Though it was, admittedly, a major one. "I have to supervise them, after all."

He knelt in front of the boy and saw him flinch in surprise. "Let me see your nose," he said, and cursed himself. Where had that soft tone come from? Gently, he touched the boy's face, applying light pressure to the bones. He ignored the fact that the boy had not closed his eyes This time, but had his gaze glued to Severus' face.

"No fractures," Snape concluded his investigation and pulled back, seating himself in his armchair. The boy seemed to sag a bit at the increased distance between them.

"So, Potter, had any other run-ins with walls that I should know about?" He picked his words carefully, trying not to spook the boy into scampering off. "None of them was wearing any Slytherin robes, I suspect?"

Potter shot him a astonished gaze, but said nothing. Snape snorted. Obviously the boy was arrogant enough to presume that he was the only one to suffer from inter-house-rivality. "Please, Potter, I was not born yesterday."

The boy set his gaze on the fireplace. "It's nothing," he mumbled, in an attempt to be dismissive.

"Don't patronize me," Snape snapped, his patience coming to an end. Stubborn boy! "Are the Slytherins attacking you in some form? Or are other students responsible for your nosebleed?"

"What do you care?" Potter challenged him, a familiar rage settling over his features. "They've been doing this for years, for different reasons and you never cared if Malfoy hexed the hell out of me! You liked it!"

"Do not presume you know anything about my taste, Potter! I advise you strongly to keep your insolent remarks to yourself! I think it is safe to assume that the reason for this harassment is our marriage bond and therefore concerns me directly, not only as a Head of House, but also as your rather unwilling husband." He felt a vein throb in his temple and tried to rein in his temper, reminding himself that too much anger could only make things worse. He tried for a calmer tone.

"It is my duty to you, as a teacher and as a husband, to protect you, if only for appearance sake."

Potter's eyes grew ridiculously wide. "You, protect me?"

Snape sneered at him. "As I have been doing for years, idiot boy!" Well, so much for calm. Harry's ears reddened in response. "So if you would be so kind to tell me whole exactly tried to redecorate your face, I will sort this manner out."

The boy looked back at the fireplace, ears still alight. "No."

Snape gritted his teeth. "Potter-"

"No!" The boy answered vehemently. "If you start fighting my battles for me now, it will only get worse! I'll deal with it. It'll stop, sooner or later. It always does."

"You cannot expect me to tolerate you storming in here, face bloodied and ignore the fact that you have been attacked!"

"Fine, next time I'll storm elsewhere!"

"That wasn't what I-"

"If you're not going to put me in detention, I'll to go to dinner now, if that's alright with you." Potter stood up and left their rooms without a backward glance. Severus glared after him, his stomach coiling. The nerve of the brat! But heedless of wherever the idiot boy deserved it or not, the issue had to be dealt with, one way or another.

Thus, instead of calling it an early night, he strode towards the Slytherin common room, down the familiar path to the dungeons. The common room was full and noisy in anticipation of the weekend. A hush spread out from the entrance as his little serpents noticed him. He waited, drawing himself up, until no one spoke.

"I have an announcement to make," Snape began, surveying the crowd before him. He let his gaze linger on Malfoy, who was glaring at him. And, as Severus noticed offhandedly, twitching in his seat.

"Many of you might have heard the rumours regarding my position outside this school. It has been suspected that I have contact to the Dark Lord's Death Eaters and belong to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's inner circle. These rumours were correct, up until recently."

He paused for a moment, letting the students whisper and murmur in shock. Especially the first-years looked at him with wide eyes and started edging away from him. Snape suppressed a bitter smile.

"I joined the Dark Lord more than a decade ago, a foolish mistake of my youth, one which I most strongly advise you not to imitate. Since then, I have held my post at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's side as a spy for Professor Dumbledore. I have been passing on information for years during his first uprising, and ever since he has reappeared. This summer, however, I have been exposed and therefore forced to abandon my post. Which is the reason I am able to speak to you only now." He paused again, watching the faces of the students it was his duty to protect.

"This enables me to issue a warning." He let his voice fall to a dangerous low. "I have no reason any more to pretend to sympathize with any Dark Wizards. I have opposed the Dark Lord for more years than most of you have been alive. I will not tolerate _any _form of Dark Magic from any student, especially one of my own House." He glared malevolently.

"Should I catch anyone promoting the Dark Arts or somehow doing the Dark Lord's bidding, I will see to it personally that that person will be expelled from Hogwarts, bringing shame upon their whole family. And believe me, I know _exactly _how the Dark Lord operates. Don't think you can escape my vigilance. Any and all attacks on other House members will be investigated by me, personally, as well. These are not the times to stir up trouble." He made sure to shoot Malfoy an especially murderous look.

"I hope I have made myself clear." He let the words hang in the air as he took his time to gauge every student's expression. Most of them looked fearful. Good. Feeling he had completed his job for the evening, Severus turned around, his robe billowing behind him, and left the common room, leaving the students to discuss his announcement in their own time. Hopefully, his snakes would now think twice before attacking his husband.

He strode back towards his office, thinking about wherever or not he should swing by the library, to see if Potter and his friends were there. Then he shook himself. He was not about to start playing babysitter to the boy!

Severus returned to his office in a rather sour mood. He decided to let his work rest for the evening- experience showed it wouldn't run off, as much as he wanted it to. Instead, he turned to the last boxes he had to unpack. Carefully, he took out his old record player and assembled it on the shelf, taking his time to check and adjust every screw and hinge. He felt his shoulders loosen and his breathing slow while he stacked the records neatly. He took each one out separately and filed them snugly into their own shelves, stroking some of the covers in fondness. Some of them had been with him since his childhood days, salvaged from his father's drunken blundering.

Once the player was functional, he put on a record and let the soothing sounds of a dark male voice and an acoustic guitar sooth his nerves further. When he was finished, he rubbed his hands on his robes and took out a glass of whiskey, and settled in front of the fireplace. He closed his eyes.

"It's really nice." A quiet voice startled him out of his reverie and he opened his eyes to see Harry approach him. The boy stood in front of the fire and warmed his hands, head slightly cocked as he listened to the music. Snape nodded in acknowledgement, waiting for the annoyance to set in at the boy's presence. But somehow, maybe due to the alcohol, or the relaxed mood Snape had managed to coax himself into, he stayed calm and as content as he ever got. Together, they listened until the song ended. When it was silent once more, the boy threw his glass a glance.

"Please don't get drunk again tonight," he said weakly, smiling slightly at Severus. "Madame Pomfrey said I won't get any more of the medicine, even if I tried."

Snape suppressed an annoyed smirk. "I'm not an alcoholic, Potter."

"Harry," The boy reminded him casually.

"Harry," Snape amended.

"I didn't know you liked listening to music," Harry remarked, settling down in front of the fireplace. This time, Snape did smirk. "There are many things you don't know about me, Pot- Harry."

"Yeah. Strange though. I mean, we're married now. We live together, but I know nothing about you." Snape thought he preferred it that way when Harry looked up at him and met his gaze.

"You've seen where I come from, so you know the worst about me," he said with a self-depreciating smirk.

"If your admittedly despicable relatives are the worst thing about you, then I'll guess you're not that bad off," Severus remarked dryly, sipping his drink.

"I've never thanked you, by the way," Harry said, and Snape's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Whatever for?"

"For standing up to Aunt Marge." Snape winced. This was the first time they had talked about that incident at Privet Drive.

"My actions were extremely ill-advised and foolish-"

"Yeah, and brilliant," The boy grinned in pleasure. "The old hag deserved it."

Severus could neither deny the truth in those words nor stop himself from gifting the boy with a small smile in return.

"I'm going to bed," Harry announced, standing up and ruffling a hand through his untidy hair.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry." Severus watched the boy's retreating back disappear into the darkness of their bedroom. He smiled bitterly to himself. Now couldn't that have been an enticing thought, had the circumstances been different. But he had long since resolved himself that he would never have that.

He downed the rest of his whiskey, quenching the desire to get more. One drunken night a week was enough. Besides, he would be getting plenty more letters from angry parents after his little speech tonight, thus more motivation to drink some other time.

When he entered the bedroom, Harry was still awake, puttering around in his wardrobe. He gave Snape a small smile as he passed him on his way to the bathroom. Once in the shower, Severus let the warm water spill across his back. The day had been appalling, but the evening had been almost nice. He washed himself and lingered on his cock, lightly stroking it. He felt himself stiffen and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. It had been a long time, he reasoned. And despite his contemptuous attitude towards lust, his body had it's urges that would not be denied indefinitely. He stroked himself lazily into full hardness, then let his thoughts wander to men and women he had found arousing. Unbidden, the image of Harry Potter's sweaty, bare and well-defined chest flashed before his eyes. Severus shuddered and his cock twitched. Willing his thoughts away, he sped up and fisted himself to completion, gasping quietly as he came. He made sure every trace of his orgasm was washed away before he exited the shower, feeling very weary all of a sudden. He yawned as he put on his nightclothes. Usually, he preferred to sleep bare-chested, as the boy sometimes did. But he would not parade his body in front of a student, not even when he was in such a good mood.

He stepped back into the bedroom and saw that Harry had let the candles burning for him. Feeling oddly touched, he clambered into bed, as usual taking care not to touch the boy, who was lying on his side, facing away from Snape. He extinguished the candles with a wave of his wand and rolled over, stretching contentedly on his stomach. He felt a smile tug on his lips as he thought of Harry's delight at him hexing his aunt, then slid into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Harry knew it was early when he first opened his eyes. The light was still grey and the air was very still. He squinted at the windows, wondering for a moment which lesson he had first that morning. Only then he remembered that it was Saturday and he had nowhere to go until later on in the afternoon. He sighed into his pillow, unfurling a bit and smiling at the pleasant sensation. He felt a pool of warmth beside him and looked at Snape, whose hair looked a lot like a rat's nest under Harry's blurry gaze. Smiling at the thought, Harry fell asleep again.<p>

When Harry woke the next time, it was a slow process. He surfaced out of his warm doze and rolled over. His leg touched something hot in his bed and he twitched away from it reflexively. He looked up and met Snape's amused gaze.

"Good morning," he drawled. "Mind that the bed is not for your use alone." Yet his tone was remarkably mild.

Harry nodded, reassured that the teacher would not disembowel Harry for accidentally touching him. In bed. With a minimum of clothing involved. He straightened his legs out carefully, thinking that he would like to stay here a bit longer. Getting up just seemed such a arduous task right now. On the other hand, staying in bed with Snape was a rather weird notion. Snape interrupted Harry's thoughts by swinging his long, pale legs out of bed and marching towards the bathroom, effectively resolving Harry's dilemma. Harry gave a low sigh as he spread his limbs across the bed, joints cracking. He hummed in pleasure and let himself sink further into the mattress, catching a whiff Snape's scent as he scooted closer to his pillow. Maybe he was slowly going crazy, but the scent wasn't unpleasant. Nor was it particularly good. It was simply Snape. He felt his muscles go slack as he drifted between waking and sleeping.

"Having a lie in, are we?"

Harry cracked open an eye and was met with a properly clothed Snape, who was doing up his buttons. "Mhm." He mumbled into the pillow, turning onto his stomach.

"Lazy brat," Snape said, but it sounded almost affectionate. Harry made a noise of agreement and thought he heard a light chuckle as Snape exited the room.

Harry let himself drift for another hour or so, before his grumbling stomach sent effectively roused him. At the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione were engaged in some conversation as he joined them.

"Harry! Mate, we thought Snape had finally killed you!" Harry smiled at Ron's good-natured jibe.

"Nah, not yet. I think he's waiting until it'll make a bigger impression. It's just too soon," he said lightly, piling on food on his plate.

"I was thinking, Harry," Hermione said, passing him the pumpkin juice, "maybe we'll go visit Hagrid this evening? He invited us for tea."

"I've got Quidditch try-outs at five," Harry pointed out between mouthfuls.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We can go after."

Harry agreed, looking forward to seeing the gamekeeper again. He was looking better this term, less bruised, though still a bit battered.

"I just hope he won't take us to see Grawp again," Ron muttered darkly, obviously following the same train of thought as Harry. Hermione shuddered and glanced at the staff table. It was late enough for many of the teachers to have departed already. Dumbledore was still there, as was Flitwick, with whom he was conversing. Snape was still there, too, eyes glued to his plate. Harry thought his expression looked less sour than usual.

"Oh, have you heard? Snape gave a big speech yesterday in the Slytherin Common Room," Hermione said, and Harry saw she was looking at Snape as well, before she flicked her attention back to him. "He apparently warned them all that if he caught anyone who favoured You-Know-Who, he would get them expelled."

"Really? He said he'd kick them out?" Ron looked impressed as he threw Snape a look. Harry, on the other hand, frowned lightly. He had told Snape he didn't want him to interfere.

"Did he say anything else?" He asked Hermione.

"Not that I know of," She shrugged. "Just told them he had been working as a spy on Dumbledore's orders and that he wouldn't allow any Dark Magic. I think it's pretty good, actually."

Harry nodded, still not completely convinced, but didn't push the issue. Maybe Snape had been planning this before Crabbe and Goyle decided they liked him better with a flat nose. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting next to his usual goons, but wasn't participating in the usual conversation. He was prodding his food listlessly. Brooding. The hair on Harry's neck stood up.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said enthusiastically. "Let's go and have some warm-up rounds on the pitch before the others get there." Harry shook off the foreboding feeling. After two months without flying, Harry was itching for the feel of kicking off the ground on his Firebolt. He nodded. Hermione sighed. "I'll just get started on my homework, then, shall I," she said dryly, with a tinge of annoyance. "So that at least one of us will have it finished on time."

"If you let us copy, then we'll all have it," Ron said cheekily, then they both waved her goodbye as they hurried off to fetch their brooms.

Later that afternoon, Harry trudged back to his quarters, sweaty but satisfied. Ron had made it back on the team, much to Harry's relief. He would have loathed to continue playing without his friend. The rest of the team was strong and motivated. Harry felt optimistic about this year's chances of bringing home the Quidditch Cup.

As he entered the chambers, intending to grab a quick shower before tea with Hagrid, he was met by the sight of Snape, sitting at the desk and gazing outside thoughtfully. Harry nodded at him in passing.

"Harry-" Harry stopped, startled. Snape turned towards him, an annoyed look on his face. Wondering what on earth he had done wrong now, when he hadn't even been there, he waited for Snape to approach him.

"The headmaster had a talk with me today." Snape scowled and Harry thought that maybe the annoyance was not directed at him, after all. "Regarding our _relationship._" Definitely a touch of distaste this time.

"What about it?" Harry asked. Apart from the fact that it was completely dysfunctional and permanently bordering on homicidal.

"The ministry has expressed their interest, as we had foreseen. Apparently they are operating under the cover of underage wizard protection services. We are both to be interviewed on the terms of our relationship."

The warm feeling that had filled Harry during the afternoon dissipated and was replaced by a rather cold feeling of dread. "What happens if we fail?" He asked nervously. "No, scratch that. What kind of questions will they be asking?"

"Personal questions," Snape said gloomily. "About our living arrangements, our relationship prior to the marriage, that sort of thing. Preparation will be unavoidable."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, snuffing the carpet with his muddy shoes. Extra study sessions with Snape that would definitely turn out to be very embarrassing. When Snape didn't say anything Harry looked up and saw that Snape's scowl had deepened.

"Oh, no," he said with a sinking feeling. "There's more, isn't there?"

Snape nodded grimly and Harry thought that they got along best as long as they were united by some unpleasantness. What a healthy relationship this was.

"Adjoining was an invitation to the New-Years-Ball at the Ministry. And the Headmaster thinks we should attend." Snape's expression turned it sourest yet.

"Why?" Harry's tone was uncomprehending. He had no close ties to Ministry, nor did he desire them. "Isn't it too dangerous?"

"The Minister Of Magic himself will be there, as well as most of the Aurors Department. And Dumbledore himself, of course. The Dark Lord would not dare attack such a well-guarded festivity," Snape informed him darkly. "And apparently, the Headmaster is of the opinion that if we make a good impression in front of all the important ministry bureaucrats, it will hinder the Dark Lord's spies to convince others of the illegibility of our union. Therefore, we are required to mime the good couple and make everyone believe we belong together." Snape scoffed and Harry full-heartedly supported the testimony.

"Can't we just- not go?" He asked weakly. "Can't we just do the interview?"

"The Ball is dated prior to our rendezvous with the interviewer," Snape informed him darkly. "And unfortunately, the two events are not mutually exclusive. The Headmaster insisted."

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, shifting his glasses askew. Once again, he had no choice.

"Alright then," he said gloomily. His clothes were beginning to dry and itch. "Have you got any more good news?"

Snape shook his head. "No, thankfully that is all for now."

"When is this interview, then?" Harry asked, stopping halfway towards the bathroom.

"The third of January," Snape said darkly. "The Headmaster has tried to put it off as far as possible, so that we have time to- get to know each other." Judging by the look on Snape's face, it was an activity that should be prohibited. Harry nodded, relieved that he would not have to worry about it for at least some time.

Tea at Hagrid's proved enjoyable, providing Harry with more than enough time to fill his friends and Hagrid in on the newest development in his life. They walked back to the castle, the summer evening slowly descending around them. Harry breathed in the sweet air, wishing he could fully enjoy it. But the dark thoughts in his head effectively prevented that.

"Cheer up, mate," Ron shoved him lightly, causing him to stumble off the path. "You'll get through this. It's just a stupid ball, like the one back in fourth year, remember?"

Harry did remember, and while it wasn't a very nice memory, it wasn't particularly frightening, either.

"And I'll help you revise for the interview," Hermione added, sliding her arm through Harry's. "I'm sure there's some book in the library about marriage laws, there's bound to be one where I can look up what kind of questions they'll be asking and then we can practice, maybe you could ask your father, Ron, if he can find out what the questionnaire is-"

Harry caught Ron's eye and they both grinned. The two of them escorted him to his quarters and they stood in the corridor, chatting, for some time. Finally, the two of them bade him goodbye and Harry watched them disappear behind the corner. Just before they were out of sight, Harry thought he saw Ron make a grab for Hermione's hand. Smiling to himself, he entered the office and was greeted by a sour Snape, who was mutilating someone's homework. Harry ducked out his line of shot and pulled up his homework, settling down at the small desk next to windows. He let his gaze wander across the grounds, relishing the view. His heart clenched as he thought that someone might want to endanger Hogwarts. He shook his head, and turned towards his Potions essay.

He was still working when Snape finally retired to his armchair, book in his hand. Harry paid him no heed, as he could hardly be chided for doing his school work. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at his textbook. He was almost finished, he could do the rest tomorrow.

When he went to bed, he lay awake, pondering once again the revelations concerning his relationship to Snape. He stared at the canopy of the bed, hands crossed behind his neck. He really didn't fancy having to construe a fake story of how he came to woo Snape- or the other way round. For a moment, he entertained the thought of simply telling the Ministry envoy the truth. A smile played across he lips as he imagined himself telling him or her of their marriage ceremony. It was so romantic, honestly, Snape even passed out-

Snape emerged from the bathroom, as usual clad in his nightclothes. Harry flicked his gaze back towards the ceiling as Snape climbed into bed. It was still awkward to feel him so close to him, under the same covers. When Harry woke at night, he sometimes watched Snape breathe next to him, wondering how on earth this all happened. Two months ago, he would have sworn that living like this would be impossible and one of them would have performed either murder or suicide within a week. But as strange and compromising as this arrangement was, it was surprisingly- manageable. It worked. It worked well, so far.

"Can I help you, Potter?" Harry jolted back into awareness, realizing he had been staring at Snape's arm for the better part of a minute, lost in his thoughts. He felt his ears redden.

"No, sorry," he mumbled, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Fascinating thoughts you must have had," Snape said tauntingly. "A rare occurrence, I suppose your brain is not used to having to work so much." Harry flushed.

"Shut up," he murmured, turning onto his side. To his surprise, he heard a small chuckle before Snape extinguished the lights. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Snape."

* * *

><p>The next weeks passed, more or less smoothly. Harry and Snape had a few rows, a particularly childish one about the mud Harry draped in after one of his Quidditch training sessions. It ended with Snape threatening to wipe the floor with Harry's mop of a hairdo if he didn't clean up the mess this instant. Harry had scourgified the floor, leaving one muddy speck in front of Snape's bookshelf just for spite. Harry soon learned not to question anything concerning Snape's teaching methods- Snape was prone to tantrums and sulking if he even hinted his teaching methods were inefficient. Also, the subject of Potions was not to be criticized. Any derisive comments concerning the new Potion's teacher, however, were encouraged. Harry shook his head in bemusement- this whole marriage thing required much more diplomacy than he had thought.<p>

One evening, Harry stomped into the office as usual after lessons and almost ran into a chair on the other side of the teacher's desk. He started in surprise, then gaped at the mousy-haired boy who sat in the chair with an air of discouragement.

"Hiya, Harry!" The boy's voice lacked his usual enthusiasm, but made up for it with the double of nervousness.

"Hullo, Colin," Harry said, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got detention," Colin said gloomily, kicking lightly at the chair legs. "I blew up my desk in class when we were doing Shield Charms. What are you doing here, Harry?"

He still hadn't given up the habit of saying Harry's name as though it was the highest of praises.

"Um, I live here, Colin," he pointed out. "These are my quarters."

"You live _here?_" Colin's eyes grew wide in horror as he looked around the office.

Harry shifted his bag from one hand to the other. "Well, yeah," he said. "These are Professor Snape's quarters and I live with him."

"When you've finished socializing," Snape's voice carried in from their quarters, followed by it's owner, "Mr Creevey will be doing lines for me. He will write _Shield Charms are for my protection, not for the destruction of furniture _two hundred times. Begin."

Colin crammed in his bag for a quill and some parchment. Harry couldn't help but shoot Colin a sympathetic smile, then he looked at Snape, who looked somehow displeased. Thinking it was probably because of his familiar manner with Colin, Harry shot him a smile, too, this time apologetic. It seemed to help a bit, since the hardness of Snape's features lessened, and he he dismissed Harry with a flick of his head. Colin's doleful gaze followed him through the door.

"I would advise you to get started, Mr Creevey," Snape said in an impatient voice and Harry smirked. He suddenly felt much older, as though Colin was somehow part of the next generation. Which was absurd, since they were two, maybe three years apart. He felt much, much older than that. He flung the bag down next to his desk and got started on his next DA schedule. Maybe he should invite Colin along, he mused. If the third-year had trouble casting a proper Shield Charm, he could definitely use some help. Maybe Hermione could teach him, while the rest of the sixth-years concentrated on practising silent spells. Harry was still struggling- simple spells he could manage, but the more complex ones still eluded him.

Harry barely noticed when Snape entered. Usually, they didn't talk much, anyway, so he was surprised when Snape approached his desk and seated himself on the windowsill behind Harry. Harry stopped writing, the back of his neck prickling. After a moment it became clear that Snape wasn't going to say anything, Harry turned around.

"Yeah?"

Snape clasped his hands in front of him, displeased at Harry's casual address. Harry ignored it.

"It has been brought to my attention that your marks in your Potions class are rather weak," he said stiffly. "Since you are married to a Potions Master, it seems rather unfitting."

Harry squirmed under his gaze. "My marks are better than the have ever been in your classes," he defended himself. It was true; he ranging somewhere around an acceptable level, which was a definite improvement.

"Nevertheless," Snape sniffed, obviously hiding his true thoughts on what he thought about Harry's potion skills, "at this rate, you will not pass your Potions N.E.W.T.. And I will not stand by and watch _my _spouse fail it."

Harry's brow furrowed when tried to see past the insults; usually, he had found, there was some message behind them. "You mean you want to help me?"

Snape folded his robes. "I cannot force you, of course," he said pointedly, as though there was doubt on that issue. "But you may give me your Potions assignments to look through before you hand them in and I will discuss your mistakes with you. Should you have any questions regarding you Potions lessons, I will also answer them with all the patience that I have left after a day of teaching dunderheads."

"Uh, thanks," Harry said, privately thinking that any study session with Snape was bound to end in a disaster, if previous experience was anything to go by.

Snape inclined his head, and Harry decided to go to dinner, if only to escape this unsettling situation.

He found Ron and Hermione and told them about Snape's proposition. Hermione's eyes adapted a strange gleam. "Oh, Harry, I'm so jealous! He'll be reviewing your work, that's bound to give your marks a boost, I mean, he a Master of his craft, he can probably give you really useful advice-"

Ron looked at Harry. "That sounds horrible, mate," Ron shuddered. "Imagine, extra lessons with Snape! As if you didn't have to spend enough time with that git!"

"Oh, it's not that bad," Harry found himself saying. "I mean, I'm usually out, anyway, what with Quidditch and the DA- and when I'm in our rooms, we don't talk much. He just reads or listens to music and I do homework or something." He shrugged.

"Snape listens to music?" Ron looked bewildered. "That's just- weird."

"Do you think Snape would review my work, too?" Hermione asked Harry hopefully, who laughed at the eagerness in her voice.

"Tell you what, come visit me tonight," Harry said on an impulse. "You haven't seen my place yet, properly, I mean. Ron and I can have a game of chess and you can ask Snape about your work. At least there won't be any people staring for a change."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a hesitant look, then Hermione forced a smile. "Alright, Harry. Just let me get my stuff from my dormitory, then we'll meet you there." Harry nodded and they departed. He helped himself to some more pudding, then made his way up his rooms. Snape hadn't yet returned from dinner, so he seated himself on the armchair, feeling a bit apprehensive. He looked outside, pondering how the days were shortening when the knock on the door announced Ron and Hermione's arrival. He jumped up and opened the door for them. They peaked in cautiously, Ron had his chess set under his arm.

"Snape's not here," Harry informed them, then led the way. Ron and Hermione looked around curiously. Hermione immediately crossed the room and started examining the bookshelves, running her hands across the spines.

"Oh, wow," she turned around and looked at Harry, "Lena Rubenlake's _Transmographic Transfiguration in Elemental Magic_! I've been looking for it for ages, it's always checked out at the library." She continued her investigation. Harry shrugged and gestured to Ron to join his in front of the fireplace, which he lit with a wave of his wand. Soon, the unfamiliarity passed and Ron and Hermione relaxed. Their chatting and laughter calmed Harry, as well, more so now that he didn't have to pretend not to hear the snide comments directed at him behind his back.

Halfway through their second chess match, Hermione was sitting next to Harry's feet, leaning against the couch and angling towards the fire. She was avidly chewing her bottom lip as she read through some obviously fascinating text concerning ancient runes that Harry understood nothing of.

Harry was just laughing at Ron's impersonation of Malfoy trying to catch a snitch when the door opened and Snape entered. Upon seeing the three of them lounging by the fire, he paused at the door. Harry thought he saw his eyes narrow in displeasure, but he refused to look guilty. These were his quarters now, too.

"Hello, Professor Snape," Ron said nervously, and Harry was grateful that for once, his red-haired friend made an effort to be polite. "Professor Snape, sir," Hermione said, scrambling to her feet, nearly dropping the book into the hearth in the process.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Harry," Snape said stiffly, still hovering by the door.

"I invited them over," Harry volunteered, then cursed himself for stating the obvious.

"Indeed," Snape said, finally moving further into the room. "Am I mistaken, Miss Granger, or is that one of my pieces?" His voice carried the hint of a threat and Harry knew that he wasn't angry yet, but he soon would be.

"Yes, sir," Hermione said quickly, clutching the book to her chest. "I haven't read this one yet, they don't have it in the library and Professor Vector said it had some interesting theories on the origins of Druid Runes in Northern Ireland, so I thought I might just read a bit. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to-"

Snape waved a hand at her babbled apology. "Just return it to me in the state it is in now, Miss Granger, or you will be sorry." He edged closer still and looked at the chess set. Ron and Harry tensed as he surveyed the set, even the pieces twitching nervously. He then smirked derisively at Harry before moving one of his pieces.

"Hey-" Harry started to protest, then saw Ron's face fall in dismay as he leaned forward and scrutinized the set anew.

"Your strategy might be enough to stump an abysmal player as Harry, Mr Weasley, but anyone with a hint of strategic thinking would see through that ruse." Ron grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, sir, but I knew I was playing Harry," he explained, flashing a broad grin at Harry, who snorted. Snape smirked, then removed himself towards the corner of the room, where Harry knew he kept his leisure reading material. Ron followed Snape with his gaze.

"Wow, Professor, is that-" he stood, abandoning their chess game and strode over towards Snape. He knelt next to record player. "My uncle used to have one of these-" Ron said enviously, leaning close so that his nose nearly touched the needle. Snape hovered over him, scowling.

"Yes, Mr Weasley, and I would advise you not to touch it, unless you wish your fingers to be fixed together permanently," he said curtly, brow furrowed as he watched Ron examine his precious device with obvious worry. Harry exchanged a surprised look with Hermione- he hadn't been aware of the fact that it was a rare thing in the wizarding world.

"My uncle smashed his, though, when he went round the bend," Ron said gloomily, sitting back on his heels. "Pity, we used to listens to Christmas Carols on that old thing. It creaked a bit on the higher notes, though." He turned towards Snape's records, and insolently pulled one out, examining the cover.

"Put that away," Snape snapped and Harry smirked at the light note of panic in Snape's voice.

"Damien Rice," Ron read aloud, then furrowed his brow. "My brother Charlie used to listen to him."

"Fascinating," Snape said scathingly, gently tugging the record out of Ron's hands. "As much as I would like to listen to more of the history of the Weasley family, I must ask you to keep your sweaty fingers to yourself when in my chambers." He shot a glower at Harry, who quickly hid his smile, trying to look innocent. Judging by the scowl on Snape's face, he did not succeed.

"I know how to handle a record," Ron said indignantly, standing up. He had grown so much this year, he was very nearly Snape's eye level. He retreated back to the armchair, grumbling something under his breath while Harry watched Snape carefully slide the record back in it's place. He looked as though he had to stop himself from patting it lovingly. Hermione giggled.

After that, Snape departed to the bedroom, not without telling Harry that he would be held responsible for any damage to his chambers. Ron and Hermione stayed for another while, Ron eventually reclaiming his dominance on the chessboard and smashing Harry's forces into pieces. They left together and Harry couldn't help but be in a good mood as he walked towards the bathroom. Snape looked at him over his book, that he had taken to bed.

"Enjoyable evening?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled, then faltered a bit. "Do you mind?" Despite his earlier defiant attitude, he wouldn't want to push the man too far.

"As long as Mr Weasley keeps his grubby fingers off my possessions, I don't care," Snape sniffed. "Will you be attending the feast tomorrow night?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Course. It's Halloween, innit?"

Snape's lip curled at his slang. "Indeed it is. I suggest we make a point of arriving and departing together. You may sit at Gryffindor table, of course, everything else would be deeply impractical."

"Oh, well if I _may, _then it's alright, I guess," Harry said caustically, ducking into the dark of the bathroom. Really, Snape still made it sound like he intended to order Harry around. To be fair, Harry thought as he pulled his clothes off and gazed at himself in the mirror, he hadn't really tried, though.

In fact, Harry realized he had been able to get away with pretty anything he threw at his teacher. Not that he had really tried his luck, but minor insolences were countered, but not punished. And he had yet to take any points from Harry's house. Which was probably costing him great self-restraint, Harry thought as he stepped into the shower. He winced as the still-cold water hit him.

He went out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. Snape looked at him, raised his eyebrow and then made a point of staring at his book while Harry rummaged through his closet with one hand, the other clamped firmly around his towel. Only after he pulled out clean slacks he realized he would have to let go of the towel at some point to put them on. Reassuring himself that Snape was still reading, he let the towel fall and clambered into his slacks. Years of dormitory life were all just fine, but undressing in front of a teacher was something entirely different. Firmly pulling everything into place, he used said towel to rub his hair dry. He flung it across the chair and clambered onto his side of the bed, jolting Snape. For a fleeting moment Harry wondered wherever the man had been outside lately- the shade of his skin looked slightly darker than usual. But maybe it was just the candlelight.

"Thanks, by the way."

Snape looked up from his book. "Whatever for, Harry?"

"For being decent to Ron and Hermione," Harry explained. "You've been- nice, I guess. I know this is difficult for you and that you could make it all a lot harder for me."

Snape looked at him for a moment, his gaze unreadable. "You're welcome."

Harry nodded, then lay down, gazing at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and relaxed, vaguely aware of Severus extinguishing the candles at some point. He felt Snape settle down beside him before he drifted off.

* * *

><p>Not a lot of action, I know. It'll be better next chapter. Concrit is appreciated.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

The next evening, Harry was on time, waiting in his school robes for Snape to emerge from the bedroom. When he came out, Harry noticed that his robes were neater than those he usually wore and that his hair was freshly washed, somehow more- fluffy than usual. He flattened his own fringe nervously.

Snape eyed his robes critically. "Do you even own another set of clothes?"

"Yes," Harry said defensively.

"Does the other pair fit?" Snape inquired, the derision sliding into place.

"I hadn't really had the chance yet to go to Diagon Alley," Harry muttered. "Ron got these for me, but he had to guess my size."

"I see," Snape said, stroking his hair behind his ear. "There is a tailor at Hogsmeade. You could get robes fitted there."

"These are still fine," Harry shrugged dismissively. "Why spend good money on some new ones if the old ones are still good?"

"The state of your robes is more than questionable," Snape sniffed, still fingering his hair. He walked towards the bedroom and disappeared for a moment, only to return with a hair band, which he fastened around his ponytail. "Money shouldn't be an issue. I'm sure your parents have provided a large inheritance for you. Also, your godfather must have had some belongings that have been left to you, his heir."

Harry looked at the floor, wishing Snape would drop the topic. "It's just that I'm still in school. And I don't make any money. It'll have to last until I can provide for myself. If Voldemort doesn't get me first, that is."

Snape was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, and Harry looked up. He looked really nice, although his nose did stick out more, now that his face wasn't shrouded by his hair. For a moment, Harry had the urge to loosen a few strands.

"Money is not an issue, Harry. I am more than capable to provide for you."

"You don't have to provide for me-"

"We are married now," Snape interrupted him. "I am expected and willing to pay whatever costs are necessary to see you clothed properly." His tone was final. Harry swallowed his pride and tried to accept the kindness, rare as it was.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Potter."

Snape led the way out of the office and locked the door securely behind them, tapping it with his wand. Then he offered Harry his arm. Harry stared up at him in surprise. Snape raised an eyebrow in return. Harry hesitantly threaded his arm through Snape's.

"Does this mean I'm the girl?" Harry asked as they started walking. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember who had his arm looped through whose in traditional couples. Snape chuckled.

"You're smaller than I am. It would look silly the other way around." Harry felt plenty silly and embarrassed as it was, but refrained from saying so. Especially that Snape was walking with an ease that bordered on elegance.

They encountered the first students halfway down the adjoining corridor. The Ravenclaws stared as they passed. Harry took a deep, if silent, breath and willed for his blush to recede. If he had wanted this relationship, he thought to himself, he would have been proud. He would wanted to be seen. Harry squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. If he couldn't fool the students here, how was he supposed to hold up at the Ministry? Snape looked at him down his nose and smirked, but didn't comment.

They entered the Great Hall, which was spectacularly decorated, as usual. Gigantic pumpkins hovered in the air, grinning devilishly at the students below. As he felt many eyes zero in on his hand on Snape's arm, he thought that maybe the Ministry might be the less intimidating prospect, after all. They crossed the Hall, Snape glaring at everyone who stared at them too obviously or dared to point. Harry clutched at Snape's arm as they passed the Hufflepuff table. He saw Zacharias Smith staring at him wide-eyed.

"Going to run, Harry?" Snape asked him softly. "How very un-Gryffindor of you."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Harry said faintly, glancing up at Snape, if only to avoid the gazes following him across the hall. The walk to the Gryffindor table had never seemed so long. He adjusted his death-grip on Snape's arm. Snape looked down at him and smirked. Harry returned the smile and finally, they had arrived. Snape had steered them right towards Ron and Hermione, who quickly shuffled apart to make room for Harry. Harry gratefully sat while Snape gently guided his arm. For one fragment of a second, Harry's hand lingered and something flashed for a second behind Severus' eyes before he straightened up, nodding at Harry.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger," he said curtly, yet politely. The two Gryffindors nodded at him, politely answering his greeting. Severus clasped his hands behind his back and with a final nod to Harry, turned and made his way towards the staff table. Harry realized the back of his neck was burning, and he quickly busied himself with the cutlery. Ron and Hermione were silent beside him.

"Blimey," Ron eventually said. Harry started piling food on his plate, even though he wasn't really hungry. He tried not think about how they would have to do this again by the end of the feast. The moment passed, however and when everyone finally stopped paying attention to him, he even managed to forget the embarrassing moment as he joked with Neville, Dean and Ron, talking about the upcoming Quidditch season.

It happened without a warning. Suddenly, something slapped onto the table between them, smacking Ron's spoon out of his hand. Splatters of pumpkin hit Harry and he looked up in annoyance at the exploding pumpkins, wondering if this was some kind of a prank or wherever someone actually found this a nice effect. Next to him, Hermione shrieked and Harry jumped away from the table, wand in his hand. He followed her terrified gaze and realized in horror that something on the table was moving. A python reared it's head gazing around in something akin to confusion. It's barbed tongue flicked out as tasted the air. Screams were erupting all around them and Harry looked around in panic, as students were jumping away from the tables, some unfortunately onto snakes that had landed on the bare floor.

The python whipped it's head in confusion and fear at the commotion around it. It was covered in pudding, but somehow that didn't make it look less threatening. Neville obviously agreed as he tried to pull away with a whimper. The snake whipped it's head around and it advanced on Neville, opening it's fanged mouth wide.

_Kill, _Harry heard it hiss.

"No!" Harry shouted at it, starting forward. The snake turned around in surprise. Harry felt a restraining hand on his shoulder. He saw Ron was rather green in the face. The snake hissed at him menacingly.

"Don't kill him!"This time, Harry heard the hiss the escaped his mouth.

The snake paused, swinging it's head. _Who are you to speak to me? You are not my master. My master told me to feast on the flesh._

_No, you may not, _Harry stated firmly. _Your master has no power here. _

The snake paused in it's weaving and it narrowed it's brown eyes. _Are you the master now?_

"Yes"_, _Harry hissed, wondering what on earth a master was in this context. Around him, people had started to climb on the benches. "And you may NOT feast on the flesh! Do you understand?"

To his astonishment, the snake bowed it's head and curled it's body underneath itself.

"Harry!" Hermione looked at him, eyes wide and gleaming with more than fear.

* * *

><p>Snape had been enjoying a perfectly good roast-turkey when the mayhem ensued. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with a small, black viper, that swam in the gravy. It was his luck that the snake was even more surprised then he was, for it gave him the chance to grab his wand and blow it's head off. As he looked around, he saw dark shapes slithering on table's everywhere, even at the Slytherin table. Shrieks and gasps of horror permeated the air. He shot another snake off the table, which had been heading for Flitwick. Snape looked about in despair, thinking quickly. Given time, he would be able to dismember all the snakes, but how many students would die of poisoning in the meantime?<p>

"Slughorn!" Snape bellowed down the table. "Get any antidotes for snake venom you have, quickly! Some of it must be in the-"

A tremendous hiss cut his yell short as he scrunched up his ears against the sound. Another hiss sounded, unnaturally booming and echoing and Snape saw as the snakes stirred, all turning in the same direction. He followed their gaze and saw a lone figure scrambling onto the Gryffindor table, hands raised in a placating gesture. Harry opened his mouth and spoke again, the air contorting under the pressure of the unfamiliar sound. Snape noticed in relief that most of the students had frozen in panic, though he knew that it would last for long until a stampede ensued. The snake in front of Dumbledore, a rattlesnake, started swinging it's head and Snape pointed his wand at it, poised to kill.

"Leave the Hall!" Harry's human voice carried through the hall, magically enhanced. "Slowly! Don't run, don't step on the snakes! No fast movements, and they won't harm you!"

For a moment, nobody moved. Then Weasley and Granger started shepherding the first-year Gryffindors, cautiously leading them out of the room. Very, very carefully, students all around the hall clambered off their respective benches and moved towards the exit. Snape saw Malfoy scowl in displeasure, but follow his comrades outside.

"Slughorn! The antidotes!" Slughorn, who had been staring open-mouthed at Harry, roused himself and hurried out of the hall.

"Come on!" McGonagall strode towards the entrance Hall, keeping clear of the snakes. Snape followed and helped the students out, hushing any hysterical cries that sounded through the entrance hall.

"Prefects!" Snape called, raising himself to his full height. "Escort your houses to their common rooms! No one is to leave until curfew is lifted!" He saw his Slytherins jump into action and turned back to the Great Hall. Harry's voice filled the air like the rustling of leaves. Severus' heart clenched with fear as he saw an enormous snake, bigger even than Nagini, wind around Harry's legs, eyes fixed at Harry's face.

"Harry!" He saw Granger and Weasley had ignored his orders and were staring at their friend, worry obviously written in their faces. The Granger girl went so far as to step into the Hall, but Snape stopped her.

"Bring boxes!" The boy's voice was still amplified and echoed even more in the empty hall. "Lot's of them, for transport!"

Snape stared at him. A flurry of magic next to him; the Granger girl had already conjured up a box of wooden slates. As Snape watched, she picked a piece of parchment out of her pocket and transfigured it. Weasley raised his wand and Snape returned his gaze to the hall. Harry had carefully stepped down the table. Suddenly, movement rippled through the hall, as dozens and dozens of snakes moved towards him. Despite himself, Snape took a step into the hall, his heart pounding so hard as though it was trying to force it's way out of his ribcage.

"Severus!" The headmaster's warning tone stopped him, but only just. His finger's twitched around his wand. He craned his neck to keep the boy in view. He seemed to be whispering something in Parseltongue, not even glancing at the doors to the hall. To Snape's horror, Harry lowered himself to the ground, vanishing from Snape's line of sight. Panicking, Snape started forward, ignoring the warning shouts behind him. He raced around the table and skidded to a halt. In the midst of at least

a hundred snakes the boy sat calmly, hissing away at the boa constrictor that hat curled protectively around him.

The serpents nearest to him turned at his footsteps and reared, a cobra flashing her gills and spitting. Snape froze, wand raised. A hiss cracked through the air and both the snake and Severus flinched at the sound. The boy was glowering at the snakes, whispering harshly at them and gesturing at Snape, who didn't dare take his eyes off the cobra. The snakes withdrew, somewhat reluctantly, as it seemed to Severus. Only when the snakes turned back toward Harry, did Snape dare to look at him as well. He appeared unharmed and was talking to the snakes again. Snape watched and it was all he could do to not shout and leap towards Harry as the foolish boy extended a hand and gently lifted a small, emerald green serpent from the floor. Severus watched in horror the boy put it in his lap as others might a cat and even dared to smile lightly. He heard footsteps approaching behind him and turned to see Albus Dumbledore's eyes widen as he took in the scene before him. He was levitating a dozen of crates before him. As he set them on the ground, Harry stood up carefully, scooping up the minuscule serpent from his lap. He walked towards the crates, the snakes surrounding him parting before his feet. Albus backed away, pulling an unwilling Severus with him. They watched in silence as Harry gently placed the snake in one of the smaller crates, hissing almost affectionately. He then pulled out his wand and sealed the box. He met Severus gaze and pointed at the caged serpent. He hissed somethingwith an earnest expression on his face.

Snape's incomprehension must have shown, as the boy closed his eyes for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. "I promised her I would get her to Puerto Rico," he said, his voice still magnified. He winced and pointed his wand at himself, ending the spell. Then he turned towards the rest of the snakes, leaving Severus completely flabbergasted. Albus, however, smiled and picked up the box gingerly.

"Hagrid will be delighted," he said calmly and walked out of the hall.

Snape watched for the better part of the night as Harry Potter talked to every snake and, one by one, put them into boxes, sometimes adding a preferred destination. The boxes were carried out by one of the teachers and passed on to Hagrid, who seemed positively giddy. Snape stayed, however, rooted to the spot and watched with eagle eyes as Harry handled each snake with care. Even the gigantic boa could be convinced to crawl into a padded box. "Brazil," Harry added in a manner of explanation before Pomoda levitated it away.

Finally, there was only one serpent left, small by comparison, only about two feet long. It seemed to be a kind of oriental snake, bronze scales dotted, a yellow diamond shaped pattern slinking down it's back. Harry hissed at it, stretching out his arm. The snake wound itself elegantly around the boys arm, then reared it's head up to look into Harry's eyes. It's barbed tongue flicked out and Harry's brow furrowed as he whispered at it, shaking his head. Severus raised his wand with a snap as the snake darted forward, winding itself around the back of Harry's neck. It came up at the other side of Harry's head and flicked it's tongue into Harry's ear. Severus felt sweat run down his neck and cursed his shaking wand arm. If he couldn't aim, then he couldn't risk firing a curse so close to Harry's head.

The boy seemed unaware of the danger, he looked merely confused and surprised. He turned his head without any expression of fear and said something, irritation crossing his features. Severus gritted his teeth as the snake blinked lazily, it's nostrils not an inch away from Harry's face. Harry hissed again, desperately this time. Snape felt his stomach clench in alarm.

"Harry, what is it?" His voice felt croaky from disuse.

"She won't leave," He said in a tone of exasperated despair. Snape gripped his wand more firmly.

"Hold still," He said, taking careful aim. Something about his tone must have alerted the boy, because he looked at him for the first time.

"No!" He cried and covered the snake's head with his hand. Snape almost fainted at the sight of those slim fingers curling around the deadly serpents head.

"Potter!" He snapped, reverting to his old manners. Severus' stomach roiled. "What is this madness!" He lowered his wand slightly.

"She won't hurt me," Harry insisted, stroking the serpents body absently. "She just- won't leave either."

"Is there a problem?" Albus approached, McGonagall at his heels, both looking at Harry.

"The boy's gone mad," Severus declared, not really caring that it sounded more like a whine.

"She won't leave," Harry said, gesturing at the reptile still wrapped around his neck. Severus noticed she had slim flaps around her head, not unlike a cobra, but much less developed.

"What do you mean, she won't leave?" Albus took a step closer, his expression serious and it was with relief that Severus watched him raise his wand.

"I mean that she says she wants to stay with me," Harry shot the serpent an annoyed look, who just blinked at him. "She's being stubborn," the boy added helplessly. Severus was about to turn and get that big blundering oaf Hagrid, who at least had some experience dealing with wild uncooperative beasts when the Headmaster laughed.

"My, Harry," he chuckled, putting his wand away, "I think you acquired yourself a familiar."

Severus felt his stomach freeze. The man had gone senile at last.

"That's a Persian Mountain Serpent," Albus explained, approaching the boy and staring at the snake from a safe distance. "Very intelligent creatures. It's rare that they choose a wizard as their companion. It is a great honour."

Harry gaped at Dumbledore and Snape was relieved that at least the boy still had some common sense left. "Wh- what?" He sputtered, reflexively grasping at the snake, which hissed in discomfort. Snape's wand hand twitched.

"It means that this serpent has chosen you as her companion, Harry," Dumbledore explained patiently. "Just as Fawkes chose me, many years ago."

Harry turned to look at the snake, obviously at loss what to do with it. He hissed something at her and the snake supposedly answered, since his face scrunched up in displeasure.

"Come on, then," the headmaster said brightly, as though the matter was settled. He seemed oblivious to the glares Snape was shooting in his direction. "You did an exceptionally good job tonight, Harry, well done! Go, take your new pet with you and rest. And mind that you take Severus with you before he strangles me." The old fool smiled at him indulgently.

Snape huffed and finally strode towards Harry. He wanted to take the boy's face in his hands, stroke his cheeks and make sure that he was unharmed. The deadly serpent still wrapped around his neck prevented him, though. So he simply opted for stepping close and grasping the boy's arm. He felt his knees go week with relief as he felt Harry's muscles twitch, warm and _alive._

"Are you alright?" Snape gazed into Harry's eyes, noting the pupils were dilated, but not abnormally so. No signs of poisoning, so far.

"Yeah," the boy sounded dazed, and he kept looking at that dratted reptile which hovered next to his ear in mid-air. If he didn't know better, Severus could have sworn the serpent looked smug.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm not hurt," Harry's eyes flickered back to his and he grasped Snape's arm in return. "Are you? Did anyone else get hurt?"

"I'm fine," Snape answered curtly, keeping a firm grip on Harry's arm as he steered his out of the hall. "A dozen students were bitten, but they have been taken care of. Slughorn has provided the antidotes."

"Harry!" The Granger girl ran towards them, Weasley close behind. She looked as though she wanted to embrace him, but stopped herself in the last second, starting at the snake.

"Harry, what-"

"He will explain everything to you tomorrow," Severus said firmly dragging Harry alongside him. He would not rest until the boy was safely in bed next to him. "You may visit him in the morning, but leave us in peace for now."

The Gryffindors fell behind and they completed the rest of way in silence. Snape couldn't make himself let go of Harry's arm, as though the boy might slip away the moment he let go. He frogmarched him all the way into their bedroom, only there coming to a halt. The boy gazed up at him, the vile creature's head still bobbing next to his. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Snape breathed out, and let his grip slacken on the boy's arm, instead closing the door behind him. It was all he could do not to charm it closed. When he turned around again, he saw the boy had sat on his side of the bed and was disentangling the snake from his neck. He set it on his bedside table with a soothing hiss. Severus felt relief seep through him as the boy walked back towards him. Despite himself, Severus raised his hand and touched Harry's neck, as though to convince himself that the snake had left no permanent imprint on his skin. When he felt Harry's pulse pound beneath his fingertips, the reality of what he was doing slammed back in place and he pulled his hand back, mortified.

"I'll be in the bathroom,"he said and fled the room, slamming the door behind him. It took a few minutes and a long hard look at himself in the mirror until he finally calmed down enough to face the boy again. To his surprise, he was already asleep, clothes in a tumble at the foot of the bed, bare-chested again and only half under the covers. Snape tucked them up fully, before he lay down and listened to the boy breathe.

The Dark Lord was behind this: But someone must have placed the snakes within the Halloween decorations. The assassination attempt was elegant and well-done. Hagrid was responsible for carving the pumpkins. He would have not been able to discover the enchantments that had been placed on the decorations at some point. Snape remembered Malfoy's look of displeasure when th students fled the hall and he sighed. He had hoped the boy would not dare do anything rash, now that Snape opposed him. Obviously, it hadn't been enough.

His mind flashed back to Harry, surrounded by snakes and he felt goosebumps erupt down his spine. He glanced at the sprawled body next to him. If it had not been for Harry, there would have been causalities. Many of the snakes had been highly venomous and Potter handled them with an ease that befitted dogs, maybe. Small terriers. Not vipers. And he had brought one of those creatures home. He scowled at the general direction of the boy's bedside table, where it was hopefully still resting. He thought of how the serpent had curled around Harry's neck and nearly reached out again to make sure the tender skin there was still intact. Snape felt his blood thunder through his veins. Harry could have died tonight. If any of the snakes would have bitten him before he had a chance to say something, Severus might not have been able to get to him in time. He could have been late again, too late to save him-

He snapped his eyes shut and breathed in slowly, then out again. It would not do to have an anxiety attack now. He concentrated on his breathing, counting his breaths, trying to match Harry's rhythm. Very, very slowly, he calmed.

* * *

><p>Harry shuddered, the sense of unease fading. Dimly, he knew he had been dreaming, but couldn't remember what, only knew that it had been frightening. He blinked owlishly in the moonlight. It was still night, he squirmed in the bed and noticed a weight pressing down on his chest.<p>

The blurry shape of an arm was draped across him. His gaze followed it and found Snape lying next to him, much closer than usual. The man was asleep and had a firm grip on Harry's torso. He was warm, so very warm and when Harry turned his head drowsily, he could feel the man's breath on his face. He closed the distance between them and felt his tremors cease. He rested his head under the man's head and rested his face in Severus' hair. He sighed lightly as Snape shifted around him and fisted his hands between their bodies. His muscles slackened and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Snape was having a very good dream, full of warmth and touching. He rumbled appreciatively as the firm body beneath his moved slightly and a moist breath ghosted against his neck. He felt the sensation go straight to his groin, where his cock was already hard. He moved slightly, as to increase the friction and hummed as the touch sent shocks of awareness through his body. He flexed his arms, which were curled around a body, then opened his eyes.<p>

With a dull surprise he realized that he was, in fact, not dreaming. He looked down at the boy curled up in his arms, his face pressed against his neck. The horror washed over him and it was all Snape could do not to bolt out of bed. He froze, staring at the boy's face. Oh hell, hell, hell,- if the boy woke up now- but he seemed quite content and breathed regularly. After a few panic-filled seconds Snape relaxed a tiniest fraction, gathering his thoughts to assess the situation. Harry and him were entwined quite thoroughly, one of the boy's legs in between his, his bare abdomen pressing against Snape's groin and he had was sharing Snape's pillow, nuzzling his throat. So far, so good. He looked up- it was still quite early, the light outside was very faint. For a split second, the thought to simply stay like this whizzed across his mind- no! He gently removed first his leg, then his other extremities from around Harry. The boy stirred, but didn't wake as Snape slipped out of bed and fled into the bathroom. He felt safer as he closed the door behind himself, leaning heavily on the sink. He screwed up his eyes as he tried to silence the voices that were screaming at him, screaming he had defiled the boy and didn't deserve his mercy. He grunted in anger and the voices faded as he concentrated on his breathing again. He had cradled the boy, not molested him. It could have been perfectly innocent comfort if not for the fact that they were married, sleeping the same bed and Severus had a hard-on that still refused to fade away and bulged in his pyjama bottoms. He glowered at his prick- it was it's fault, after all.

The boy certainly hadn't been unwilling- of course he wasn't, he was sixteen! He would probably hump a hedgehog if one was ever unfortunate enough to venture into his bed. Snape rubbed his eyes, feeling weary again. It had been only a short night's sleep after all the excitement. But he could not return to bed like this. If he could return to bed at all. He glanced at the watch in the bathroom- it was four o'clock in the morning. He struggled with himself, then made a decision. He stuck his right hand down his slacks and moaned as his fingers closed around his offending prick. He swiftly stroked himself to completion, gripping the sink hard as he came. He leaned against the wall heavily, blood pounding in his ears. He washed himself with cold water, shuddering, yet satisfied with how his prick receded and shrunk, looking almost innocent. He dried and cleaned his robes, making sure he was presentable before he exited the bathroom.

The boy was lying on his back now, splayed deliciously across the bed, his chest uncovered, revealing the soft cover of hair and the dark nipples- Snape's cock gave an interested twitch, but didn't comment further. Snape breathed out a sigh of relief and clambered awkwardly into bed. Harry was occupying part of his half, too. He shifted his limbs out of the way, pausing when the boy grumbled in his sleep. Finally, Snape had coaxed him to the middle of the bed so that he had enough room for his own limbs. The boy was still touching him in various places, but Severus didn't dare shove him further. He really didn't want to explain why he was touching him in bed. He lay down on his stomach, firmly clamping his arms around the pillow. He closed his eyes, finding the heat next to him relaxing, despite the fact that it's source was an attractive young man who had seemingly spent the better part of the night spooning against Severus, pressing his warm, lush body into his, breathing at his neck, touching his chest- Bloody hell!

The next time Severus awoke, he first checked where his arms were. Still under the pillow, good. His whole body seemed to have stayed exactly where he had left it. Good, as well. But that didn't explain the warmth covering his right side. For the second time this morning horror flushed him, as he realized the boy had pressed himself to his side again, draping an arm across Severus' back. Snape nearly howled in frustration. This wasn't his fault, goddamnit!

Just then, the boy stirred and and Severus froze, snapping his eyes shut, grateful that his hair hid the larger part of his face. He let his features slacken and made a point of breathing evenly. The boy slid his arm down Snape's back, hand resting for a moment before it jerked back and the whole body vanished as Harry jerked away from him. Snape suppressed a bitter scowl. Disgusted, are we, Potter?

The boy cursed softly, his voice a higher pitch than usual. Severus didn't move, keeping up his charade of sleeping. The boy disentangled himself from the covers and disappeared into the bathroom. Severus let out a huff as he heard the door shut. He didn't move, but listened, first to silence, then to the shower running. For a split second, he wondered wherever the boy was wanking, then dismissed such thoughts, thinking instead of how to act the rest of the day.

When Harry finally emerged after a suspiciously long shower, Severus made a show of waking up. The boy looked up at him from his wardrobe, calm expression on his face. It might have fooled Severus if not for the tell-tale colour of the back of his neck.

"Morning."

"So it is," Snape said dryly, then threw a calculated look at Harry's bedside table. The snake was still curled up there, it's golden eyes glinting at Severus.

"It's still here," Snape said, feeling annoyed.

"Er-" Harry obviously hadn't spared the snake much thought yet. "Yeah, I guess so. Does this mean I have to keep her?"

"I don't think any one of use really has a say in this, Potter," Snape said mildly, still observing the snake, who glared right back. "It looks like it has decided to keep you."

"She," Harry corrected him. "It's a she." Snape snorted. If the boy had already started to give the creature identity, then he might as well give up. Nothing short of killing the thing would get rid of it now and he somehow doubted that either the headmaster nor Harry himself would look upon that kindly.

* * *

><p>Harry waited until the door fell shut behind Snape before he buried his face in his hands, dragging them down until they rested on his throat. He thought briefly about strangling himself, looking at the snake on his nightstand.<p>

"I'm fucked," he informed her. She blinked at him and uncurled slightly, flapping her neck.

_He likes you, _she informed him, her head weaving through the air.

"Not if he finds out I was groping him tonight," Harry muttered, growing pink as he thought about the memory of the night. He had cuddled up to Snape like a kitten, for God's sake- he would have been inclined to believe it was a dream if not for the incriminating position he had woken up in.

_He knows, _she blinked at him slyly. Harry opened his mouth in horror.

"What do you mean, 'He knows'?"He shouted, not really caring. Snape couldn't understand him anyway.

_He woke up this morning, _she informed him smugly. _He was curled all around you before._

Harry gaped at the revelation, not knowing how to process it. He had stayed in bed with him after that? What- Harry turned red in embarrassment. Bloody hell, this was a mess.

"I'm going to breakfast," he told his snake. He'd deal with his thoughts after he had filled his stomach.

The snake dipped it's head. _Pick me up, _she ordered. Harry sighed, but thought it might be better to take her, or she might try to follow him. He gently grabbed her and held her awkwardly. She snaked her head to his collar and Harry shuddered as she slid against his bare skin, settling around his waist, circling his hips like a belt. Harry held his hands away from his body awkwardly.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I might hurt you," he said weakly.

_Then don't, _came the muffled answer. Harry sighed and relaxed his arms. They hung by his side, nudging the snake a bit.

"Do you have a name?" Harry asked, the question only just occurring to him.

_I am Leila. _He felt her twitch around his middle. He winced and entered the office.

"I'm Harry," he said, feeling weird speaking to thin air. She didn't answer. He stepped out on the corridor. The whispers following this time were even worse than before and he ducked his head as he hurried towards the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione were not there yet, but Neville was, so he sat next to him.

"Harry!" Neville jumped as Harry slumped onto the bench next to him.

"Sorry," Harry said gloomily, reaching for the porridge.

"Er- that was, er, really great yesterday," Neville said, watching Harry shovel porridge into his bowl.

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said flatly. "But I don't really want to talk about it."

"Right," Neville said quickly, tucking in himself. "Have you already done the assignment for Flitwick?" Neville looked worried. "I'm just don't get what the difference between a glamour and a masking charm is-"

Happy for the change of subject, even if it was about homework, Harry talked to Neville while the other Gryffindors filled the table. Finally, Ron and Hermione arrived.

"Harry!" Hermione patted his leg and looked at him in concern. "Are you all aright?"

"Yeah, fine, fine," Harry said dismissively. He had really felt fine this morning, so warm and safe- He felt his cheeks grow warm.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" He asked quickly.

Ron shook his head. "No, thanks to you, we got all the Gryffindors out. A Ravenclaw was bitten, I think, but she's good now."

Harry nodded, relieved. "Harry, what about the snake you had yesterday?" Hermione looked worried.

"Tell you later," Harry said quickly, as he noticed people crane their necks in hope of overhearing some part of their conversation.

He led them outside that afternoon. They went and sat by the lake, on the rocks which were warm from the sun. Harry jumped in surprise as he felt the snake- Leila, he reminded himself- stir and unwind herself.

He ground his teeth at the tickling sensation and heard Hermione shriek. "Harry!" She was staring, open-mouthed at Leila's head, which was protruding from his collar and lazily tasting the air. She slid down Harry's chest and without further ado, slithered away into the grass. Ron and Hermione stared after her.

"She wouldn't leave," Harry said darkly, chucking a stone at the lake and then explained to them what Professor Dumbledore had told him. At the end of it, Hermione was glowing. Somehow, she always seemed excited by the things that upset him most, Harry thought gloomily. He wondered for a moment what she would say if he told her that he had felt up Snape in his sleep.

"That's really rare mate," Ron interrupted his thoughts. "There aren't many magical creatures that will bond with a wizard. Though George swore he had a gnome following him around for weeks every time he left the house. He said he had to spin him around for 15 minutes and toss him until he left him alone." Harry laughed.

"I wonder who let the snakes in, though," Hermione said grimly, not joining in to their laughter. Harry sobered up quickly. "I bet it was Malfoy," he said darkly. "He's as good as a Death-Eater. He probably enchanted the pumpkins."

"Yeah," Ron said, stretching his legs and turning his freckly face to the sun. "It wouldn't surprise me one bit."

"Do you think you should talk about this to Professor Snape?" Hermione asked Harry. He tensed up at the mention of Snape's name.

"I dunno," he said, leaning back on his elbows. "I think he knows more than he's telling me, as usual." He grimaced. Maybe if he hugged him some more- no!

"Ask him," Hermione prompted him, oblivious to Harry's discomfort. "Maybe he'll tell you more now that you're married."

She slapped Ron lightly on the arm. "Come on, Ron, we're on patrolling duty tonight." Ron grumbled, but stood. They looked at Harry expectantly. He shook his head.

"I'll stay for a bit," he told them. "Go on, I'll just wait for Leila." The looked at him, stumped. "The snake," he added in explanation. Truth be told, he simply didn't want to return to his- their- quarters already. He had some thinking to do. Ron and Hermione nodded and left him. Harry watched their retreating backs as the huddled together. He smirked, then turned his face back towards the sun.

So. Snape. His stomach curled. He would think about this now, come to a conclusion, then never think about it again. If Snape knew- he obviously didn't want to talk about it. It didn't seem to bother him that much if he simply came back to bed afterwards. Maybe he even liked it? Harry's felt himself redden at the thought, feeling oddly flushed., but he pushed the thought away.

He had certainly liked it, he had initiated the whole god-damn thing, although he was asleep at that point- He thought for a moment about the way Snape had looked at him last night, after the Halloween disaster. His look had been so intense, so probing, as though he had been using Legilimency on Harry. The way he had held his arm- Harry shuddered against his will. It had been so possessive. It reminded him of the way Ginny had sometime clung to him last year, whenever other girls had come too close to Harry for her taste. Certainly every time Cho had been somewhere near.

What did that mean? Harry squinted at the lake. He had liked it. He had liked the way Snape treated him enough to cuddle with him when he was asleep. And Snape hadn't been bothered, either.

There was something else, something he didn't even want to think about. Harry stared at his feet, glowering at them. He had been hard this morning, hard as a rock. Was this because he had never woken up pressed up to someone before, or because it was morning or because- he gulped. Because he liked Snape? Like _that? _He sat up and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands.

It was tempting to just forget the issue.

No, Harry told himself firmly. Think about this now, then you can forget it.

So, was he attracted to Snape? Was he even attracted to _men?_ Harry didn't know. It felt good- lying next to Snape, that is. Being held by him. But was it because Snape was a guy? Or because he was Snape?

Harry shook his head, confused. He felt safe, he decided. Snape, somehow, bizarrely, cared for him, for all the wrong reasons. And Harry- well, he didn't hate the man anymore. Actually, he didn't mind being in the same room with him. Even when he insulted Harry, which was a lot, there was usually some kind of meaning behind it. Maybe the man was literally incapable of being nice. Perhaps rudeness was his only way of communicating with his surroundings. Harry chuckled at the thought. So basically, everything was fine. Snape didn't hate him, much, and Harry kinda-sorta liked him. His body definitely did, anyway. Now, where was his bloody snake? It was starting to get cold.

"Looking for something, Potter?"

He whipped around, wand reflexively in his hand. Draco Malfoy sneered at him, also wand at the ready. "Want to fight, Potter?" He breathed, eyes glittering maliciously.

"What do you want?" Harry growled, watching his ever move. There was no pretence out here- Malfoy and he were enemies. On opposite sides of a war that raged with a brutality that ripped Harry's life to piece more than once. He tightened his grip on his wand.

"Aren't you afraid, Potter, being outside all alone?" Malfoy breathed, inching closer. "None of your _friends _here to protect you, no Mudbloods for you to hide behind-"

"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" Harry asked and tried to keep his wand from shaking with rage. "And what were you doing out here?" He noticed the boy's eyes were slightly red-rimmed. Harry's brow furrowed. Had he been crying?

"None of your business, Potter," Malfoy snapped, confirming his suspicion. "You know the Dark Lord will win? You and all your friends, you will die."

"Not if I can help it," Harry answered. The grass rustled beneath Malfoy's feet.

"Oh, really, you? The Chosen One?" Malfoy's voice dripped with contempt. Darkness was descending rapidly- Harry could only just make out Malfoy's glittering eyes.

"What's to stop me to from killing you now?" Harry saw his wand tremble.

"Well, for starters, that's my snake your nearly standing on," he smirked. Malfoy glanced down in horror as Leila draped herself around his leg, hissing softly.

_He's frightened. _

"But even without her, I think I could take you," Harry said, still seething. "It was you with the snakes, wasn't it? Someone could've died."

Malfoy looked up at him and it hit Harry that he looked slightly insane.

"It was the Dark Lord himself," Malfoy said softly. "He's so powerful, Potter, you have no idea."

He shook his leg and Leila disengaged herself. Turning, he ran into the night. Harry lowered his wand slowly, exhaling. Malfoy seemed even more unstable than usual. He knelt as Leila slithered towards him.

"Thank you," he said, stroking her head. She closed her eyes contentedly, then slithered up his arm. He stood up and she wrapped herself around his neck protectively.

_No one attacks my human,_ she said smugly in his ear.

Harry chuckled. "Actually, they do. A lot." He said, walking towards the castle. The sun had definitely set now and he had to take care not to stumble.

When he finally reached the entrance hall, he was shivering and Leila had slithered back into his shirt. Dinner was already over and Harry realized he had been gone longer than he had intended to.

He sprinted towards his quarters. When he hurried inside, he found them deserted. Breathing in relief, he thought that maybe Snape hadn't noticed his absence. Heart still pounding, he sat himself down at his desk, feeling the weight of Leila comforting him. He pulled out his school-work and started to write.

He jumped in his seat as the door banged open, hitting the wall. Snape stormed in, his eyes livid. He slid to a halt when he saw Harry frozen in his seat.

"You!" He snarled, advancing on Harry, who cowered. Snape towered over him, the candlelight casting impressive shadows over his face. "Where the hell have you been, boy?"

"Out," Harry said, inching away from him. "I was with Ron and Hermione!"

"DON'T lie to me," Snape roared. "They were at dinner, you were not!"

"I'm not lying," Harry yelled, his own temper flaring. He stood up and returned Snape's glare. "I was with Ron and Hermione at the lake, then they left for prefect duty!"

"You stayed at the lake, alone," Snape hissed, moving closer to Harry. "You foolish, ignorant boy! Do you care nothing for the sacrifices that have been made? How many more people have to _die _for you until you finally start valuing your own life!"

Harry's vision turned scarlet. "You know nothing about my life," Harry snapped, finger's itching to grab his wand. "I was inside grounds and I wasn't alone! I would've returned earlier if it wasn't for Malfoy!"

Snape's eyes widened. "Malfoy!"

"Yes, your precious Draco," Harry taunted him. "He did nothing more than he was always doing, right under your nose!"

"Did he threaten you?" Snape's glare was thunderous.

"Does it matter?" Harry waved his hand dismissively. "It's my word against his and who would you rather believe?" Harry knew he was being unfair, that Snape would actually believe _him, _but he was too furious to care. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

"Idiot boy," Snape snarled, grasping at Harry's arm, his grip much too tight. "Don't you realize that all it takes is one Stunning spell and a portkey and you will be in the Dark Lord's hands!"

_Calm yourself, _Leila hissed, rising from Harry's shirt. Snape started, but didn't back down. Harry opened his mouth angrily. _Now!_

He clamped his mouth shut and fumed silently, blood pounding in his ears. Leila reared, pressing down onto Harry until she was face to face with Snape. He flinched, but glowered at her, his teeth bared. Leila flicked her tongue at him, then slid back down again, off Harry's arm onto the table.

_He is frightened and angry, _she told Harry, curling up next to the candle. _Calm him. _

Harry hissed angrily at her, a wordless expression of his fury. He janked his arm away from Snape.

"I'm sorry, alright?" He rubbed his arm, not meeting Snape's eyes. "It was stupid, but I didn't think I'd be gone that long! Besides, Ron and Hermione knew where to find me."

"It's already dark out," Snape sneered, but the furious rage was gone from his voice. "What were you doing out there, anyway?"

"Thinking," Harry said tartly.

Snape snorted. "And pray tell me, Potter, what could possibly be so important that you are willing to endanger your life by thinking about it?"

Harry opened his mouth, but his brain froze. Before he could come up with an answer, he felt the heat creep up his face and saw Snape raise his eyebrow in return.

"Quidditch," Harry finally blurted and pushed past Snape. He was very much aware of the fact how much touching it involved before he fled to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it, then smacked the back of his head against the wood. It resulted in a satisfying thunk and pain. He was so, so stupid.

* * *

><p>Concrit is appreciated.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

When Snape entered the bedroom later, the boy was already asleep, his arm dangling from the bed as he slept. Snape leaned against the door-frame for a moment, simply looking at the boy.

He was an idiot. An arrogant idiot if he thought that he was powerful enough to simply strut down the grounds and not be in danger. All it took was a stealthy hex, a soundless incantation, a drop of the wrong potion in his goblet, and it would all be over. Severus shook his head as his heart clenched at the thought. Also a foolish thing, that came to care for young, innocent beings such as Harry.

He walked across the room, gait slightly unsteady. It had taken a rather liberal amount of alcohol to sooth his frayed nerves. As he dropped onto the bed, less gracefully than usual, the boy stirred and turned, but didn't wake. Now he was facing Severus, who gave him a long look, before sliding into unconsciousness. He blamed the funny feeling in his stomach on the alcohol.

* * *

><p>The next two weeks passed in a blur as the preliminary exams washed over Harry. To his great surprise, he passed all of them, including Potions. Due to their reduced number of subjects, Hermione barely had the time to get worked up before they were already over. Harry was glad and thought he might relax some, if not for the thought of the impeding Ministry Ball. Not only did he need new dress robes, but he and Snape needed a cover story, one the could both recite and possibly elaborate, should anyone be more curious. And they would be. Harry knew from experience that at least half the people there would be plotting on how to best harm him somehow. He sighed, packing up after another DA meeting. Ron and Hermione had been last to leave, though Harry thought they looked eager to be alone. He smiled as he thought of the successful Tickling Charm Colin had produced, breaking through Angelina's admittedly rather weak Shield Charm. The boy had improved greatly since he had started coming to the DA meetings. He turned and saw that Ginny was still there, arranging the pillows they had been using for practice in a corner. His heart did a strange little jump and his groin tightened. They had stayed back here after practice before.<p>

Ginny turned towards him, brushing her ginger hair from her face. Harry thought that her eyes were quite beautiful, a pale blue.

"Ginny," he said, unsure of what he actually wanted to say. She crossed the room determinately and kissed him, one hand at the back of his neck pulling his face down. Her lips moved against his in a familiar pattern and Harry gave a small gasp as she licked the corner of his mouth. It had been a long time- His balls tightened and Ginny slipped her tongue inside his mouth. They kissed in earnest and Harry could feel his skin hum where she touched him, anticipating what was to come.

"I missed you," Ginny whispered against his lips, then her hands slid down his chest, grabbing at his buttons. He usually did that part himself, as he did when he went to bed, where Snape-

Severus. His mind screeched to a halt and he took a step back, breathing heavily. Ginny looked at him, bewildered and hurt.

"I- I can't," he gasped, still panting from the kiss. Oh god, what had he done? This was wrong, Ron would kill him and Severus- his stomach coiled and he felt guilt rise up his throat like bile. Oh god. He had sworn not to cheat on Severus. Oh god oh god oh god- What if this somehow damaged the bond, was Snape already on his way to Voldemort?

"I have to go," he said quickly, dashing from the door. He ran the way towards their quarters, praying he was not too late.

* * *

><p>Snape sat in front of the fire, tea on the table and an seventh year essay in hand when the door burst open and Harry skidded in, only coming to a halt when he saw Snape sitting in front of the fire.<p>

"Oh, thank god," the boy panted, leaning on his knees and breathing heavily. Snape watched him, torn between amusement and alarm.

"Would you care to explain-?"

"I thought you might be going to Voldemort," the boy said, still gasping for air. He sat heavily on the couch, running a hand through his already wild hair. Something was different about the boy. Snape leaned forward lightly. His pupils were wide and alarmed, his hair in a complete disarray.

"Why would I be doing that?" Snape asked, surprised. The boy shot him a guilty look, biting his lower lip, which was already swollen. He buried his face in his hands. Oh. A chill filled Snape's stomach. Of course. The boy was bound to have certain- interests. He knew it had only been a matter of time. Severus fumbled with the corner of the essay, unable to look the boy in the eye. Vaguely, he wondered wherever it had been a boy or a girl the boy had slept with. Anger suffused him and he gritted his teeth. Had he come here to rub it in his face? Severus nearly ripped the piece of parchment off. He looked up as Harry took a deep breath and looked at him, guilt positively dripping from those green eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he blurted. Snape started nodding, but Harry wasn't finished. "Ginny, she was- we used to be together and she waited up after study group and-" Oh gods. Severus closed his eyes. He really didn't want to listen to this. He put his scroll aside and made a movement to stand up.

"Oh god, and she kissed me and, fuck, well, I kissed her back!" The boy's shoulder's hunched in defeat. Severus paused halfway out of the chair. "Oh god, god, I'm so sorry, I knew I shouldn't have, but then I remembered that there was you, and that I was married to you and I _told _you I would never cheat on you and then I did. I didn't know if that wouldn't break the bond and I thought you might already be halfway on your way to Voldemort and I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again." He buried his head in his hands again, his fingers moving into his hair and clenching it, as though to pull it out.

There was a moment of silence.

"Let me just see if I understood this correctly," Snape said quietly, sitting back down. "Miss Weasley, an admittedly attractive young woman, your ex-girlfriend, tried to seduce you today and kissed you. And you turned her down and came running to me." The heat of anger dissipated and turned into- something else.

"Well, yeah," Harry raised his tortured gaze for moment, then let his head hang again. "But you're forgetting the part where I kissed her back."

Snape had to suppress a smile at the boy's antics and settled back in his chair. "Harry, even if you had gone through with the deed, it would have not endangered our bond." Harry looked up at him. Snape snorted. For someone who had seen so much, Harry was still surprisingly naïve at times. "Married couples cheat on each other often enough, I assure you, and remain married. It might weaken their magical bond slightly, but never break it."

Harry gaped at him. Obviously the boy hadn't been aware of that. Severus almost snorted again. The boy had thought he might have killed him with a snog and guilt had driven him right back home. A bitter smile formed on his lips. Better this bond than none, right?

"But I'm not like that! I don't want to cheat on you!" The outraged tone surprised Snape again.

"Why not?" He was honestly curious. "You have no obligation towards me."

"Of course I have," Harry snapped, as though somehow annoyed to be let so easily off the hook. "We are married! I took the marriage vows!"

"A fake marriage solely to protect me," Snape clarified with a harsh voice, as he felt colour rise up his cheeks. "If anything, it is I that must watch my steps, so that you do not break up with me. It would be suicidal for me to do so with you." Maybe he shouldn't clarify the boy's advantageous position.

"But, but-" Harry mouthed, as though Snape was somehow missing the point. Maybe he was.

"I swore it," he exclaimed. "I said I wouldn't cheat on you and it was wrong of me that I did!"

"You didn't _cheat_ on me, Harry," Severus said exasperatedly. "Your ex-friend kissed you and it took you a moment to decline her offer." He felt smug saying that, for reasons he'd rather not think about.

"It was wrong," Harry insisted. "It was wrong and I won't do so again. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Snape made a derisive sound, opened his mouth- and closed it again, baffled. What was he supposed to say to that? He felt an unfamiliar warmth pool in his stomach as he looked at the young man before him, who still looked upset and was picking at his fingernails.

"Harry," he started again, "it's alright. I forgive you." He held his breath.

The boy's face flashed with surprise, then a grateful smile crossed his lips and he nodded. Severus exhaled silently. Good, it had been the right answer. Merlin, the boy could be complicated sometimes.

He looked back at his essay, but found he couldn't concentrate anymore. Well, well, it seemed as though Ginny Weasley had the nerve to touch what was rightfully and officially his. All but a public challenge. She would pay.

And Harry- he had turned her down. A beautiful girl, he knew that. Smart, powerful and popular, the typical Gryffindor. And Harry had rejected her out of a promise he had made to him, Severus Snape. Out of fear it might hurt and harm him. He felt as though he had drunk half a bottle of whiskey, somehow light-headed.

He put down his essay to watch as Leila, who had been basking in the warmth of the fire slithered over to Harry, who scooped her up in a practised move. He hissed at her for a long time and Severus wondered wherever he was relating the story. Finally, he stopped and glanced at Severus, gifting him with a bright smile. Severus couldn't help but smile back. Thank all the deities that the boy had no idea how he sounded when he spoke in Parseltongue.

Harry's gaze flicked back to the snake and his brow furrowed.

"What did she say?" Snape asked curiously.

Harry looked at him with a worried expression. "That she would bite off Ginny's head if she were you."

Snape chuckled. "Rest assured that I won't."

Over the next few evenings, Harry made a point of settling down with Severus in front of the fire, usually reading or doing his homework. Snape had the sneaking suspicion that Harry was trying to make up for the kiss. What really surprised him was how little minded. In fact, it was enjoyable. As long as they didn't talk about their cover story, at least.

"No, you will not tell them I courted you," Harry said flatly. "You can tell them I snogged you first, but only because it would have been illegal for you initiate it."

Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Potter, I'm telling you-"

"Don't Potter me," Harry snapped at him.

"Fine, Harry, if we string the story that it was I who started the whole endeavour, we would be playing into their hands! The Ministry officials will be able to turn that into me coercing or else seducing you into this marriage. It _has _to be you."

"Oh, fine, whatever." The boy was in a foul mood, sitting grouchily in his armchair, staring mulishly at the fire. "So I fell for you during all those horrendous Potion lessons while you were taking all of Gryffindor's points, bullying me and my friends and trying to fail me whenever you could. Our Occlumency lessons only sealed the deal."

"Correct," Snape said, folding his hands over his stomach. "Then, we were working together in the Order of the Phoenix. We were doing background research on some of the suspected Death Eater families. That's when I succumbed to your remarkable intellect."

The boy glowered at him and Snape smirked. Harry had started to understand almost all of insults.

"Alright, but then you kissed me first."

Snape rolled his eyes at the childish battle of dominance. "Agreed. I defiled your mouth thoroughly on my own accord."

To Snape's secret pleasure, Harry turned pink at the imagery.

"We've been dating ever since and decided to marry, else our union could not have been continued in Hogwarts." Severus nodded- it was reasonable.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Harry asked. Severus shook his head.

"My mother, Elaine Prince, if from an old pureblood family which rejected her once she married my muggle father, Tobias Snape," he told Harry, figuring now was as good a time as ever. "I don't think you need to know more about them. My grandparents all died before I met them. Is there anything I have failed to gather about your relatives that could prove relevant?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that's about it, what you saw. I haven't spent much time with them since I came to Hogwarts. How many people will there be at the Ball?"

Severus did a quick count in his mind. "I've never attended such an event before, but I presume it will be about 200 Ministry witches and wizards, along with staff and security."

Harry looked profoundly unhappy. "That many? Merlin's beard..."

Snape watched him closely. The displeasure seemed authentic. "Speaking of which, your robes will be ready this weekend. I will pick them up myself, since I have business to do attend to in Hogsmeade, anyway."

Harry nodded, still gazing at the fire, stroking Leila absent-mindedly. Then he returned Snape's gaze. "What are doing for Christmas?"

Snape scowled. "I prefer to spend it here, even though Albus makes us attend Christmas dinner."

"Oh." Harry paused for a moment. "Well, it's just that the Weasley family are spending Christmas in Grimmauld Place with Remus and all. Lots of the order will be there. I just reckoned- maybe you'd come to?" He raised his head and met Snape's gaze hopefully.

Snape snorted. "There's no need to keep up this charade with the order. They already know the true reason behind this marriage. There is no one there who would rejoice at my presence."

"I would," Harry said immediately and turned pink again as Severus stared at him, thunderstruck. The boy actually wanted to him to be there?

"And Ron wouldn't mind, either," Harry added, grinning lopsidedly. "I think you've grown on him."

"Like cancer, undoubtedly," Snape said, still baffled.

"And I know Mrs Weasley likes you, she would be disappointed if you didn't show!" Harry was still looking at his, that heart-breaking foolish expression of hope on his face, try as he might to conceal it with his babbling.

Finally, Snape found his voice again. "Well, it would be horribly rude to disappoint so many people," he said softly, not trusting his voice. As though he even could deny the boy anything. "I'll be there."

"Great!" The boy grinned, his green eyes bright behind his glasses.

"Just keep Miss Ginevra away from me," Snape warned, settling more comfortably into his armchair. "She isn't very fond of me at the moment."

"You put her through a week of detention with Filch," Harry laughed. "I'd be pissed with you, too."

* * *

><p>"Really, Harry, it's not that difficult," Hermione said wearily. She pulled her textbook closer. "Look, you concentrate your power at the tip of your wand, until you feel you can't hold it anymore, then-"<p>

She pressed her wand tip to the log they had been practising on and a curl of smoke rose into the air as the wand scorched a line into the wood.

"It's all about focus," she said primly, as though she hadn't been repeating it over and over for the last hour. Harry caught Ron's eye, who looked just as enthusiastic as Harry felt.

"Hermione," the red-head said carefully. "Holidays start in two days, don't you think-"

"Harry!" A cry caused the three of them to jump and turn towards the office door. Snape opened it with more force than necessary and strode towards them, eyes livid.

"How many times do I have to tell you to return any equipment you borrow from my off-"

"For Merlin's sake," Harry interrupted him, putting down his book and glaring right back. "I haven't _got _your bloody ink-pot!"

"Potter, you borrowed it yesterday, although borrowing implies you actually wanted to return-"

"Don't Potter me!" Harry huffed irritably. "And I told you, I put it back! You must've lost in on your own accord. No bloody wonder with that mess on your desk all the-"

Snape swooped down, causing Ron and Hermione to cringe away in panic. He snatched Harry's ink-pot from under a heap of parchment.

"Hey!" Harry stared, infuriated, at Snape's retreating back. "That's mine!"

"Then I suggest, _Harry, _that you return mine soon," Snape drawled, before exiting the door and shutting it sharply. Harry glowered at it, then rounded on Ron.

"Can I burrow yours?" He asked, still seething. Ron was goggling at him. "S-sure, mate," he said, then shot a look to Hermione, who looked equally baffled.

"Thanks," Harry said grudgingly. He fumed silently for a moment, then noticed neither of his friends had said anything. He looked up to see them still staring at him.

"What?"

"What the hell was that all about?" Ron asked, glancing back at the office door, as though he expected Snape to burst in again any minute.

Harry snorted. "He thinks it's my fault if he looses his stuff. He'll find his ink-pot on his own."

"Blimey," Ron said weakly, sharing a look with Hermione. "So you invited him over for Christmas day, huh? Bound to be fun."

Harry grunted, returning to his text.

"Harry," Ron threw another hesitant look towards the door, then leaned forward. "Have you thought about the DA lately?"

Harry glanced up at him. "What about it?"

"It's just, I've been thinking," Ron looked nervous. "Most of us are doing kinda good, right? So I reckoned that maybe it would be time to do kind of the more serious stuff. Hexes, curses-" He clarified, as Harry looked at him, uncomprehending.

Hermione frowned. "That could be illegal," she pointed out.

"But it would make us more useful," Ron argued, somewhat passionately. "Think about it: Right now, it's all pretty basic and it's more than most people here ever learn. But out there-" he gestured vaguely towards the windows. "We'll be facing people who want to kill us. We're sitting ducks, mate," Ron concluded. Harry scowled in annoyance.

"Don't you think I know that? I've been out there plenty of times!"

"But don't you see, that's the point," Ron said exasperatedly. "We know you're fighting You-Know-Who and stuff, special lessons with Dumbledore and all- but I'd like to be able to defend myself, too! And I bet a few of the others feel the same."

Harry flipped the pages of his book, without really seeing them. Teaching any more advanced curses might be bordering on illegal, and would certainly not strike any teacher's favour. But Ron was right, Voldemort was out there. As was Bellatrix, Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Lestrange- Hogwarts would not protect them for ever.

"I don't know much about advanced curses," Harry said eventually.

"Well, then we'll learn! And show the others, after," Ron said, tone indicating that was something obvious. "Like we did when you were preparing for the Triwizard Tournament, remember?"

Harry looked at Hermione, hesitant. Hermione met his gaze and bit her lip. "I guess," she stared slowly, tracing the spine of her book with her fingers, "this is war. And we will be fighting. I don't like it either, Harry, but that's the truth. And I want to be able to protect my family best I can. It's only fair to give others the chance, too."

Ron beamed at her. "See!"

Harry huffed. "So we'll be turning our DA into a real army, then? Creevey into a soldier?" He swore under his breath as he imagined the small boy duelling against a Death Eater.

"No," Hermione said immediately. "No, not the young ones. Perhaps- fifth years and above?"

"That's just organization," Ron waved his hand dismissively. "So we're doing it?"

Harry looked at him and thought of Ron's brothers and sister. "Alright," he said heavily.

"Brilliant!" Ron grinned.

"We'll need to do lots of research," Hermione mused, glancing around the room. She stood and walked to the bookshelves, scanning the titles.

"Snape has some really good material." She plucked a book out and scanned it's pages. "Do you think he'll give you permission to visit the Restricted Section of the library?"

"Uhm, dunno-" Harry didn't fancy trying, but if he could catch Snape in a good mood... "I reckon I could try," he amended.

"Good," Hermione said, smiling. She glanced up at him and Harry could she the determined glint in her eye. "That's settled then. We can start with the practical stuff after the holidays."

Ron looked disappointed. "But-" A glare silenced him and he turned back to his books. Harry was surprised to see a pleased expression on his face. Ron winked at him.

"Best if she thinks it was her idea," Ron whispered and Harry laughed. "Come on, Harry, Quidditch practice!" He happily stuffed his books back into his bag and stood, beckoning Harry to the door.

* * *

><p>Harry returned, shivering. It had started raining, a nasty, cold rain that soaked his robes and made him forget what it was like to be warm. Snape threw one look at him and pointed his wand at the fire, making it flare. Harry chattered his thanks, and went straight to the shower, letting the warm water disperse the bone-marring chill. Feeling much better, he settled into the armchair opposite Snape, who looked at him, then at his watch.<p>

"It's a bit early," Snape drawled pointedly, looking at Harry down his large nose.

Harry shrugged, grabbing one of the books Hermione had pointed out earlier. "Don't feel like going anywhere."

He sensed that Snape was still looking at him, but refused to meet his gaze. Finally, Snape shifted and Harry relaxed. Leila slithered up his leg and he let her settle into his lap.

"Oh, happy anniversary, by the way," Harry said, speaking to the book. When nothing but silence greeted him, he looked up. Snape looked- flabbergasted. Harry grinned.

"We've been married for two months now. Don't tell me you forgot!" Harry said in mock horror. Snape snorted and the corner of his mouth twitched. Harry realized that he barely ever saw the man really smile. Well, if that wasn't a challenge, Harry didn't know what was.

"How could I forget," Snape purred, putting his book aside. Harry's heartbeat sped up as he watched Snape stand and purposefully walk to the liquor cabinet. When Snape returned to the fireplace, he handed Harry a short glass filled with amber liquid.

"To our bond," Snape said, his dark eyes glittering. Harry stood, facing him. Snape's eyes really were black, he realized. Not brown, but truly dark, like obsidian, or maybe onyx. Harry lifted his own glass and bumped it lightly against Severus', still looking him in the eye. "To not having killed each other yet." Snape's mouth twitched again before he tossed the liquor back. Harry mimicked him, then coughed as it burned it's way down his throat.

* * *

><p>Harry watched Snape putter around their bedroom, stuffing some items into his pockets that might be useful for the day.<p>

"What's that?" He asked as he saw Snape retrieve a vial of potion from his bedside cabinet.

"An antidote," Snape answered curtly, the vial disappearing into his pocket. "In case your lapsnake bites someone." He gestured at Leila, who was currently curled on Harry's crossed legs.

"Nah, she only bites people if they're mean to me," Harry smiled down at her and rubbed her head. "But again, it's a good idea for you to have that potion, then." Harry directed his smile at Snape. His features softened a bit and Harry felt a trickle of pleasure.

"Impertinent brat," Severus said and Harry grinned. "Why are you still here?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Er, I'm waiting for you? You're going down to breakfast, right?"

Snape eyed him suspiciously. "Are you afraid to walk through the corridors alone now, Potter?"

"Harry," Harry corrected automatically. "I thought we were to keep up appearances? It's Saturday, so I reckoned it might be- you know, right, if we show up together." He felt his face heat slightly as Snape gazed at him, calculating. He warmed even more as Snape stepped closer to the bed and actually sat down next to him. The bed dipped.

"Have you thought about exactly what kind of appearance we will make?" Snape leaned forward, his voice soft and silky. Harry could smell soap off him and swallowed. "The two of us, entering the Great Hall together, always the happy couple, late for breakfast-" Snape was now whispering in Harry's ear. Harry felt his spine stiffen and fought the urge to pull away as Severus' breath ghosted over his ear. He felt goosebumps spread across his back and arm and shuddered. "-don't you think they will wonder what we have been up to prior to our appearance?"

Harry felt his eyes widen at the implication. The heat on his face was now so intense, Harry was surprised Severus wasn't scalded. Snape lingered for a second, then pulled back. Harry exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Severus threw a look at his face and barked a laugh, his eyes sparkling mischievously. He swept from the room and Harry followed quickly, stuffing Leila down his shirt. Snape was waiting for him in the hall, still looking smug.

"Oh, shut up," Harry mumbled, as he lightly took Snape's arm. Snape smirked.

"Did Slughorn brew you the antidote?" Harry asked as they stepped down the wide stairs. Snape looked down at him with contempt. "I do not require any assistance from that amateur," Snape sniffed haughtily, guiding Harry around a corner and waiting for a large group of students to pass.

"I am a Potions Master, no matter what my current work position might be." Harry smirked.

"So what, you had to use the study labs?" He asked, grinning. They entered the Great Hall. "I hope you put in your name on the list, I know for a fact the teachers _hate _it when you just use them unannounced."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him and Harry grinned wider. Snape stopped in front of the Gryffindor table, within hearing distance of Ron and Hermione. Snape leaned in and Harry felt himself drawn in by the black eyes mere inches from his own. He suddenly thought he might have bitten off more than he can chew when his breath hitched. "You, Mr Potter," Snape rumbled, voice deep, but not all that quiet, "Are a tease." He tapped the tip of Harry's nose lightly the turned abruptly, robes billowing. Harry gaped after him, open-mouthed. Oh Gods.

He turned towards the table and saw his Gryffindor mates goggling at him, Neville slightly green in the face. To his ultimate horror, his previous blush returned in full force and he sat down between Ron and Hermione, hiding his face.

"So, Harry, how's married life agreeing with you?" Harry shot Seamus a filthy look, but he only laughed and pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"You're really doing a pretty good job, you know," Hermione said conversationally. "You and Snape, I mean. If I didn't know better, I'd buy the whole secret-love charade."

Something about her tone caught Harry's attention, but she seemed engrossed with her food. "Yeah, well-" Harry started, then left it at that.

"Wanna go outside, Harry?" Ron nudged him from the other side. "I know that Michael Corner was looking for people for a snowball-showdown with some of the Ravenclaws."

Harry threw a look at the enchanted ceiling, from which snowflakes were descending peacefully.

"Sure," he said.

A few minutes later, not even bothering to dress properly, they raced each other out of the entrance hall. Harry's breath huffed out of him, his exhilaration driving him onward. Outside, the world was pearly grey and white and Harry skidded to a halt, breathing in the freezing air. A snowball hit the side of his face, sprinkling it with bits of ice. He yelped, rubbing the pain away. Ron grinned at him, backing away, already scooping up fresh snow. Harry growled and leapt for cover behind a pillar in the courtyard.

Soon, they were joined by Ginny, Michael, Neville, Seamus and Dean, along with a couple of enthusiastic first- and second-years. The Ravenclaws emerged, already in formation, in a tight bulk.

"Now!" Ron bellowed, and the first folly struck the Ravenclaws as the cowered. A savage howl echoed and they dispersed, grasping up snow as the ran to the opposite side of the courtyard. Harry's fingers felt numb as he formed another ball, but he didn't care. Instead, he took careful aim and pelted a snowball at a dark-haired Ravenclaw. He laughed as it hit home, only to be pelted by three of her housemates in return.

The fight lasted for about half an hour and by the end of it, Harry was trembling under his robes, but happy. He walked up the stairs and saw Snape there, an amused look on his face. Harry grinned, then bounded up to him.

"I won't nurse you if you catch a cold," the DADA teacher said pointedly. Harry grinned up at him, teeth still chattering. "I won't," he promised. His teeth continued chattering even as they passed through the entrance hall. Eventually, Severus huffed. "Oh, for the love of-" He unclasped his outer robes, revealing the white shirt and black trousers he wore underneath. He held the cloak out to Harry. "Take it, you foolish imbecile. I won't be listening to you coughing through the night."

Harry thought briefly about declining, but he was to cold. "Thanks," he said, wrapping himself into the thick wool, relishing the warmth it still carried.

"Have you packed yet?" Snape asked him as they climbed the stairs together, Harry waving at Ron, who was heading for the Common Room with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"No, not yet," Harry said, stuffing his hands in his armpits.

"I strongly suggest you get started. You're leaving in two days," Snape reminded him, putting a casual arm around his shoulders.

"You're not coming with me?" Harry looked up at Severus, surprised. He had assumed they would be leaving for Grimmauld Place together.

Snape shook his head. "I will arrive on Christmas Eve, as promised. I still have some things to attend to, here."

"Oh." Harry looked at the floor. It felt- strange to leave without Snape. His cheery mood had evaporated suddenly. Snape was watching him.

"Surely, you can survive a few days without my inexplicably pleasant company," he drawled and Harry managed a smile. "I'll do my best," he answered.

Ron and Hermione left the next day, along with the other students, by the Hogwarts Express. Harry watched them go, feeling slightly forlorn at the castle gates. He knew he would see Ron tomorrow, when he took a portkey to Grimmauld Place. As far as he knew, the whole Weasley family was already residing there, up to their ears in Christmas preparations. He shivered against the cold as he watched the students pile into the carriages, excitement in the air. Barely anyone remained at Hogwarts, except for him.

He returned towards his quarters, feeling lonely as he strode through the empty corridors. Not even Peeves crossed his path until he entered his quarters. They were empty, too. Snape was probably overseeing the boarding of the train. Harry slumped into his armchair and stared at the grey ashes, not bothering to light a fire. He knew he was being silly- he would see them all again tomorrow. He threw a look across the room, scanning it for Leila- but it appeared completely desolate. Harry huffed, sinking deeper into the chair. He sat there, lost in thoughts, until the door opened.

Snape entered, unbuttoning his cloak. He flung it over his armchair and shivered. "Merlin, Harry, why is it freezing in here? You could have at least made yourself useful and lit the fire!" He waved his wand and flames roared to life. Snape sat in the armchair, muttering something about useless Gryffindors and rubbing his hands. He snapped his fingers and a bowing House Elf appeared.

"Bring some tea for me and the stupid boy," Snape barked and the House Elf disappeared with a crack. Harry smiled and felt the warmth of the flames wash over him.

* * *

><p>Snape watched Harry drag his trunk out of their bedroom, failing to point out that he could have taken the portkey into it, instead. He sat in his armchair as Harry let it plop down in the middle of the room to wipe the sweat from his forehead.<p>

"Have you got everything?" Snape asked, standing up. He had no intention of delivering any possessions to the boy afterwards.

"Yeah," Harry said, huffing.

"How about your snake, then?" Snape jerked his head towards the fireplace, where Leila was still huddled. He snorted as the boy's eyes went wide and he jumped towards her, hissing. He cradled her for a moment before stuffing her down his shirt. Snape followed Leila's movements under his shirt. He felt his fingers twitch as she seemed to settle around his waist. He wondered idly how far his own fingers would go around that waist. Harry was so slim-

"Okay, _now _I've got everything," Harry said, startling Severus out of his thoughts."Where's the portkey?"

Snape gestured at the table, not trusting his voice. Thank the gods the boy was leaving a few days early- He could definitely use the time to get his wits back together. It just wouldn't do to start thinking of him that way. Not when he could never have him.

Harry grabbed the quill, then looked at the watch. "Alright then," he said, looking at Snape again and grinning his lop-sided grin that made him look so utterly mischievous. Any teacher's nightmare. It made Severus breath hitch. He could tell by the way Harry's eyes sparkled that he was honestly looking forward to seeing his friends and family again. Snape scowled as he thought of the bunch of redheads and werewolves fawning over Harry, touching him, embracing him-

"But you'll come?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed. Snape snorted.

"I did promise you, did I not?" But stay away from Miss Weasley until I get there. Harry's smile returned and he looked at the clock again, evidently eager to be gone.

"That's good then. Wouldn't know what to do without you. Who'd be calling me names all the time?" With a crack, he was gone, along with his trunk, snake and infernal grin. Snape snarled to the empty room. He let his gaze wander- everything was as always. Harry's desk was untidy and scattered with parchment and quills. Books, records, his record player- yet the rooms felt wrong. Too silent. Severus stomped into his office. At least now he'd be able to work in peace.

Instead he stared off into space. He had essays to mark, lessons to prepare and Dumbledore to talk to- and yet, he could only think of Harry's anxious voice as he reassured himself Snape would actually attend. The boy had become used to him, dependant on him, maybe even liked him- but that would pass, as soon as he was with his friends again. Then he'd remember, that really, he didn't need Snape at all.

The bed was cold without that oven of a boy. Snape tossed for what seemed the thousandth time, stretching his legs across what normally was Harry's half. It was wonderful to have his bed back to himself again. All this space- simply grand. Just fantastic. He wondered if Harry was having trouble sleeping, as well.

Severus rolled over completely, dragging the covers with him. He inhaled deeply, willing his mind to relax. Instead, his eyes snapped open and he nuzzled the pillow. It smelled of Harry. With not even that dratted reptile as witness, Snape buried his face into the pillow, embracing it. He'd think about the implications in the morning.

When morning came, however, his mind was on his scheduled meeting with Professor Dumbledore. He knocked on the door to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in, Severus, come in!"

The Headmaster poured him a tea and Snape watched in silence. He paid particular attention to Professor Dumbledore's hand- the curse seemed to have halted for the time being.

"You should let me examine that," he told Albus, gesturing at his hand.

Dumbledore waved his left one dismissively. "It matters not now. The dice have been cast and there is nothing to be done. No, my boy, I wanted to talk to you about some other matters."

"Which would be?" Severus had fair inkling at what was on the Headmaster's mind.

"Why, our dear Harry, of course."

Of course.

"What of Mr Potter?" Snape refused to use any possessive pronouns, even less so in front of Professor Dumbledore.

"I have been watching him on occasion and his Defence Against The Dark Arts homework is satisfactory- but I wanted to ask your expert opinion on how he is doing."

Snape scowled. "I suspect Miss Granger and Mr Weasley see more of him than I. We both are busy throughout the day and rarely indulge in idle chatter." Well, except lately, of course.

The headmaster looked at him indulgently over the top of his spectacles. "Nevertheless, I value your opinion."

Snape huffed. "The boy is- quiet. From what I gather, he spends most of his free time either doing homework or practising Quidditch. Also, he mentioned a study group. I suspect he has restarted that little club of his- 'Dumbledore's Army' or what they called themselves."

Albus chuckled. "Ah, yes. I am confident Harry has the abilities to help his classmates out a bit. I suggest you let him be."

Severus nodded, sipping his tea. "I have noticed the absence of some of my books, though. I strongly suspect it is Miss Granger's doing. Incidentally, Mr Potter has asked me for a pass to the Restricted Section. It appears that they are aiming towards more sophisticated material."

The sipped their tea for a moment in silence. "I do not mean to pry, but how goes- ah, your conjugal life? Is married life agreeing with Harry?"

"It seems so," Snape said drolly. "I suspect he has resigned himself to his fate."

Albus chuckled. "And how do you feel with the situation?"

Snape looked down at his teacup, thinking about the last few evenings. "Tolerable. I do not see any homicide occurring in the near future."

"It can be a daunting thing, to be faced with a temptation, yet unsure of how to make the most of it," The Headmaster said mildly. Snape looked up sharply, but Albus merely unwrapped a chocolate eclaire and popped it in his mouth.

"I assume you are talking about your sweets," Severus said drolly. Albus chuckled.

"Why, yes, what else would we be talking about?"

Snape made a non-committal noise.

"I will have private meetings with Harry, come the New Year."

That caught Snape's attention instantly. "What will they entail?"

"There are things concerning Voldemort Harry has yet to understand. I'm afraid can't protect him any longer. There are things he must know." Albus looked older all of the sudden, and stroked his withered arm. "I ask of you not to inquire about what we will talk about."

Severus felt himself pale with indignation. "If you hope that the matter will stay yourself and Potter, suspect you will be severely disappointed. Potter is utterly incapable of keeping secrets from his two sidekicks, Weasley and Granger or anyone even slightly proficient in Occlumency."

"I fully intend for him to share this information with them. He will need them before the end."

Snape sat there, feeling slightly gob-smacked. "Of what nature could this information possibly be, that you would be willing to include Weasley and Granger, but not me?"

"Your task will be different from Harry's, Severus," Albus said gently. "Hogwarts will be facing very difficult times, come next summer. The students here will need every protection possibly available. You know the school and castle as well as any marauding student."

Severus suddenly understood. "You do not think Potter will be returning for his last year." His heart sank at the thought. The headmaster shook his head sadly.

"I highly doubt it. Severus, Harry will most likely leave to accomplish a task vital to the destruction of Voldemort. It must be him who fulfils it."

"And yet you will not tell what it entails." Severus was fully aware of the fact that his bitterness was seeping through. But then again, why bother hiding it?

"Your duty is to the students, Severus." Oh, how he loathed that gentle tone. It always made him feel like he was twenty-one again, and begging for forgiveness. And how he hated his job, even more so when it kept him away from the people he truly cared about.

"Have you made contact with Draco?" Severus knew fully well that the headmaster had changed the topic on purpose.

"None as so far. He is avoiding me ever since I made my alliance to the light clear."

Albus clucked his tongue in disapproval. "His attempt on my life on All Hallow's Eve was mediocre at best. The lack of further attempts suggest he has further plans. We must not let him harm any of the student body."

"He was set up to fail," Severus mused. "He will become more desperate as time passes."

"All the more reason we must be careful."

* * *

><p>A request: Tell me what you DON'T like about the story. Usually, authors don't want flames, but I'm telling you, hit me!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Harry sat in the kitchen, up to his elbows in dough. He kneaded it the traditional muggle way, the dough still very sticky. He added some flour, sneezing when some got into his nose.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley yelled, brutally cutting a big hole into a goose. Harry winced as he heard the bones crack. "Have you gotten the room cleaned yet?"

"Working on it," a bellow answered from the neighbouring room. Mrs Weasley huffed in exasperation. "Honestly, that boy, how hard can it be to make _one room _suitable for dinner- Ginny!"

Ginny appeared in the kitchen doors, holding a bunch of mistletoe. Harry looked from them to Ginny's face and blushed, turning back to his kneading. He had never talked to Ginny about their kiss, nor had she mentioned it. Gods, if Ron ever found out-

"You'll need a bit of more flour, Harry," Mrs Weasley peered over his shoulder. He added some more. A crash sounded from the sitting room.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Mrs Weasley strode through the door, bloodied hands kept aloft. "Fred! George!" Harry smiled to himself. Christmas preparations never seemed to include this much madness at Privet Drive. He enjoyed every second of it.

"Molly- Oh, hello Harry!" Mr Weasley entered the kitchen, levitating an enormous Christmas tree through the door. It's top was bent as it grazed the ceiling. Harry shoved the table against the door and out of the way before jumping back himself.

"Thank you, Harry-" The tree knocked over a chair and flattened Harry against the wall. "Sorry, sorry-" Harry rubbed the scratches off his face and spit some needles out. He watched Mr Weasley squeeze the tree through the door into the hall. Why he didn't just shrink it was beyond Harry, but he decided not to question any of it. Maybe it was tradition or something.

Deciding the dough was good, he washed his hands. "Harry, dear, if you'd go to help Ron, that would be splendid-" Harry nodded and left Mrs Weasley to resume her manhandling of the fowl. Ron seemed to be busy scrubbing off grime of a very long dining table. Mr Weasley and the twins were arranging the Christmas tree in a corner, while the radio was blaring wizarding carols. Harry grinned happily. Holiday spirit indeed.

"It won't come off," Ron moaned, wiping again at what seemed to be exceptionally slimy dust. Harry slid his finger over the surface and shuddered. It was quite disgusting.

"Here," he said, hurrying off to the kitchen, then returning with a bread knife. "I'll scrape off the coarse layer, then you'll wash off the rest." It worked, more or less. The residue from Harry's knife clinging to the side of the bucket was rather unappealing.

"Why won't Fred or George just take care of this mess?" Harry asked, gesturing to the table.

"They say the can't," Ron said darkly. "But I bet they just want to annoy me." Harry wouldn't put it past them.

"Who's coming, anyway?"

"Bill and Charlie are dropping by this evening. I bet they're just skivvying off the cleaning! Remus and Tonks will be here, I think Mum mentioned them- I know Mum invited Dumbledore, too, but I think he said he couldn't make it, thanks. And you had to go and invite Snape, of course." Ron shot Harry a dirty look, but it was only half-hearted.

"Oh, come on, I couldn't leave him alone at Christmas, could I?" Harry said exasperatedly. "He's alright, you said so yourself!"

"Well yeah," Ron said grudgingly. "I reckon as long he keeps his mouth shut he's a decent bloke."

Harry laughed.

"Did you get him a gift?" Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on the table.

"Well?" Ron looked at him expectantly. "What is it?"

"A necklace," Harry murmured and he felt himself blush. Damn. He had hoped to keep this a secret.

"A _necklace?_" Ron gaped at him. "What- like, like the kind Lavender got for me?"

"No," Harry snorted. "Of course not! It's not flashy or anything, just you know, plain silver."

"What does it look like? Can I see it?"

"No, I've already packed it," Harry said gruffly, paying attention not to channel his discomfort into his scrubbing. He might actually damage the wood. "You'll see when he opens it."

"Blimey," Ron said, staring at the spot they just cleaned, as though he was seeing it for the first time. "D'you reckon he got you something?" Harry shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it.

"Huh," Ron resumed his scrubbing, then dipped his cloth into the bucket filled with vile, soapy water. "I'm just surprised, that's all. You two-" Ron gestured, spraying Harry with water droplets. "Never reckoned you'd get along so well, 's all."

Harry slowed his movements. "Yeah... It's so weird," he said, feeling a distinct sense of relief. He had thought Ron might be uncomfortable discussing him and Snape.

"He takes care of me. Snape!" He shook his head. "It's just so strange. He's nice- you know, not _nice _nice, but- I think he cares. He gets all protective sometimes. You should've seen him once I was late after Quidditch practice- I thought he was going to kill me."

"Weird," Ron echoed Harry's sentiment. They scrubbed in silence for a moment. "But that's not bad, isn't it?" Ron looked at Harry, hair in disarray. "I mean, he's a powerful son-of-a-bitch. If he's protecting you, that's almost as good as Dumbledore, right?"

"I guess," Harry said, feeling a twitch of- something, as he remembered Snape throwing himself between Voldemort and himself. He had no doubts that Snape would do that again. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Anyway, how's that ball-thing coming around? You've got a cover story?"

"Pretty much. We're working on the details, who snogged whom first and where we went on our honeymoon."

Ron pulled a face. "I don't want to hear it, mate. He's a teacher!"

Harry grinned at him. "I've seen him naked," He informed Ron, who turned pale under all his freckles.

"What? Why? When?"

"Alright, half naked," Harry amended, savouring Ron's expression. "He changed his shirt a couple of times in front of me. Oh, and I saw him in his briefs."

"A teacher, mate," Ron was turning slightly green and Harry laughed. "That's just- wrong! It's like imagining your parents-" Ron shuddered and Harry's mind shied away from that image. He did _not _want to know where exactly all those Weasleys came from.

"So anyway, how are you and Hermione?" Harry asked, hastily changing the topic. Ron turned from pale to beet red. "Don't know what you're talking about," Ron muttered, scrubbing the table with renewed vigour.

"Alright, alright," Harry smiled to himself. Ron could stay in denial for as long as he wanted, Harry knew he was right. The cleaned the rest of the table in comfortable silence. Harry's thoughts wandered back to Snape. He had never seen him naked, really- was regret really the thing he should be feeling in response to that thought? Perhaps it was time for another heart-to-heart with himself after Christmas was over. Maybe wasn't as straight as he thought. Ginny had turned him on, with her blazing eyes, her beautiful hair and soft, yet firm, body-

So had Cho, though not to that extent. But Hermione- she held no appeal for Harry at all. He loved he like a sister, he would die for her- and that was that. The thought of falling into bed with her was absurd and kind of horrifying. He fell into bed with Snape on a daily basis, and when he remembered the one time they've touched in bed, really touched- Harry remembered the pleasure that touch had awakened in him.

He gazed at a slimy spot on the table in consternation. Perhaps gender was not as important to him as he had always assumed? Maybe he found the person as a whole sexy or unattractive? But then, what did that say about his attraction to Snape?

Harry was grateful for Mrs Weasley's shouts at that point. He wasn't sure he was ready for that particular conclusion.

* * *

><p>The next day was, if possible, even busier. Harry spent the majority of cleaning the dining room, decorating it with fairy lights and other baubles, distracted while Fred and George accidentally set off a set of their fireworks. Harry dived under the table as a rocket ricocheted straight at him, only to miss and hit the wall, bouncing off. Over the yelling of counter spells and the whizz of the fireworks, Harry watched the feet move hastily across the room until all was finally still and the shouting, or in Harry's and Ron's case, laughter, began.<p>

They sat together, drinking late tea in the kitchen. Harry was explaining his Quidditch strategy against Hufflepuff to Fred and George, who were arguing with Ron enthusiastically. Harry almost missed the figure over all the laughter.

"Severus!" Harry turned at the sound of Mrs Weasley's voice. There Snape was, standing awkwardly in the door, sour as ever. Harry grinned so hard he thought it might split his face in two.

"Severus!" He bounded towards the door and almost hugged the man, but caught himself in time. He settled for touching the man's arm and beaming at him.

"I thought you'd be here later!" He made a grab for Snape's bag, which was floating smartly behind him. It was the same one he had brought to Privet Drive.

"I finished my work early," he said curtly, eyeing the assembled crowd in the kitchen suspiciously. His face was pinched, but Harry could tell he was pleased to see him.

"Severus, have a seat!" Mr Weasley pulled him up a chair, smiling warmly, while Mrs Weasley was already preparing some tea. "Sit, sit!" She ushered him into the table and sat the teacup in front of him.

Harry found he couldn't keep that stupid grin off his face as he dumped Snape's bag in the hall and hurried back into the kitchen. Snape caught sight of him and his gaze softened.

"Managed to lose my possessions already, Harry?" His tone lacked the usual bite.

"Yep," Harry said cheerfully, dropping into the chair beside Snape and grabbing his own cup. "You'll never see them again."

"Just as my ink-pot, then," Snape commented dryly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"You still haven't found it?"

"How could I find it when you lost it-"

"I didn't lose it! I never even had-"

"Not this again," Ron stage-whispered and any tension dissolved into laughter as the conversation around them picked up again.

"Got all your lessons planned till the end of the term?" Harry took a closer look at Snape. He looked drawn, as though he slept bad.

"Not quite," Snape said, sipping his tea and reclining in the uncomfortable wooden chair. "I've had enough work to do with your year's collected thoughts on the Defence of Mind-Addling Hexes. I am in the privileged position to inform you that most of them are idiots."

"Don't I know it," Harry laughed and Snape smirked, sipping his tea again. Harry looked at his hands clamped around the teacup. His silver wedding band glinted at him. He realized with a pang that he had missed the man.

The break was too good to last and Mrs Weasley shooed them all out soon enough, making sure everyone had chores to do. Even Snape was put to work in the kitchen, doing a brewing of sorts.

Bill arrived, unexpectedly bringing Fleur with him. Both were greeted with exclamations of joy, although Harry saw Ginny pull a face after Fleur kissed her hello. When she swooped down on Harry, he felt oddly flushed and grinned at her, fully aware of the Veela charm surrounding her.

Snape however, seemed fully unaffected and lessened his scowl only for a polite greeting. Charlie joined them shortly after and Harry excused himself to the dining room, feeling squashed in the kitchen full of siblings.

"-maybe if we split up Fred and George-"

"Then we're still are one place short! Their room isn't that big, Molly!"

Harry walked into the sitting room, where Mr and Mrs Weasley were seated against a table, Mrs Weasley carefully rearranging all of the decorations Harry had hung there earlier.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled at him. "It's just that we weren't expecting Fleur to come with Bill, so now we have to rearrange things."

"We thought Charlie and Bill could bunk together in the attic bedroom, but now he'll be staying there with Fleur-"

"Charlie will just have to make due, he can sleep on the floor with Fred and George-"

"Arthur, that room's tiny! Maybe if he switched rooms with Severus, and we transfigured the beds-"

"What if I stayed with Sn- Severus?" Harry interrupted, rather rudely. "Then Charlie could camp out in my bed, in Ron's room." He watched Mr and Mrs Weasley exchange surprised looks. "If he doesn't mind, that is."

"Well, it would solve our bed problem," Mrs Weasley said reluctantly. "But Harry, dear, you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

"I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "Honestly, Mrs Weasley, we sleep in the same bed at Hogwarts. I don't mind. We're married, after all." He glanced down at his left hand.

"In that case, if Severus agrees to it, I think it's the best solution to all," Mr Weasley said, passing Harry a grateful smile. "Thank you, Harry."

"Not a problem," Harry said, wondering why on earth they were acting as though this was some great sacrifice for him. He honestly didn't mind sharing his bed with Snape. It was strange, actually, sleeping alone again. Cold.

"I'll go tell Severus, then," Mr Weasley went to the kitchen and Harry trailed after him.

"Severus," Mr Weasley called out and Snape turned, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He stirred something at the stove. "If it is acceptable to you, you will be sharing your room with Harry for the duration of your stay. We wanted to give you your own room, but with Fleur here, I'm afraid we lack the space to accommodate you adequately."

Snape's eyes flickered towards Harry. "Did you agree to this?" He asked Harry quietly, turning around.

"It was Harry's idea, actually," Mr Weasley said, casting a fond look at Harry. Harry felt a faint heat creep up his neck. He was blushing a lot these days and somehow, it always had something to do with Snape.

"Then I shall accept," Snape said, still softly, his gaze still glued to Harry. Harry bounded out of the door, before he could embarrass himself further. "I'll bring up your bag!" He moved his things, as well, while he was at it.

They finally retired in the evening, when even Mrs Weasley seemed tired. Mr Weasley poured everyone who wanted to a firewhisky and the Weasley family settled down in front of the fireplace. Harry watched from the doorway as the adults piled onto the seating spots, until the younger ones took up cushions and seated themselves on the floor. Harry carefully picked his way around the people, clutching his bottle of butterbeer and his cushion close to his chest. He finally stumbled into the space surrounding Severus armchair, which had stayed mysteriously clear. He let his cushion fall to the floor, then sat down in front of him, happily listening to Charlie's tales about the newest dragon colony they had started in Romania. Unfortunately, any news concerning the order or Voldemort was off-topic for the evening. Harry fidgeted, resting his chin on his knees. This wasn't very comfortable at all. He leaned back and encountered Severus' armchair and a good portion of his legs. He leaned against the armchair and waited. When no protest was forthcoming, he draped his arm between Severus' feet and the armchair, leaning back more casually. Severus shuffled his feet to accommodate him, but said nothing. Harry took a sip from his bottle. Yes, this was much better.

After his second bottle, Harry felt drowsy, despite the laughter all around him. He was perfectly content, sitting here, listening to the Weasley family exchange stories, grateful they let him be part of this. Grateful they had extended the same generosity towards Severus. Sighing, he curled his hand around Snape's calf and leaned his head against his leg. After a moment, Harry felt a light pressure on his head, stroking his hair, finger's weaving in between. He glanced up in surprise.

Snape smirked at him. "If you insist on behaving like a cat, you should expect to be treated as such," Snape drawled, but Harry couldn't be bothered to take offence. Instead he let his head drop again, enjoying the covert caress. He had all but dozed off when the company broke up.

He splashed cold water onto his face in the bathroom, rousing himself slightly. He walked back towards their shared bedroom and saw that Snape had already claimed his side of the bed. It was rather small, compared to the king-sized bed they shared in Hogwarts. Harry climbed in under the covers, already feeling the drowsiness overtake him again.

"You really can't hold your liquor, can you, Harry?" Snape chuckled, then extinguished the candles with a wave of his wand. "Two bottles of butterbeer and you're nearly unconscious. I should be more careful what I give you to drink or you'll drop off into a coma."

"Shut it. You're the one to talk," Harry muttered, inching slightly closer to the delicious warmth beside him. Their room was rather chilly. "Anyway, Mrs Weasley had us all cleaning the house since we got here. It's worse than detention."

"I'm shocked," Snape said, sounding anything but. "If anything Molly Weasley can come up with can exceed my detentions in cruelty, then clearly I haven't been living up to my own standards."

Harry smiled at the darkness. "Oh please, you've got nothing on her," Harry teased, turning around to face him. He saw a glitter of eyes in the darkness. "She makes us clean a potentially cursed and doxy-infested household without using magic. Scrubbing cauldrons is nothing compared to that."

Snape chuckled and Harry felt the vibrations through the bed. "I bow to your superior knowledge. I has been over a decade since I have been subjected to a detention. You, however, seem to never get enough of them."

Harry grunted into his pillow, too tired and too happy to argue.

"Why did you ask to stay with me, Harry?" Snape asked quietly. "Here, in this room, I mean?"

Harry opened an eye in annoyance, but couldn't see anything in the darkness. Why was everyone making such a bloody big deal out of this?

"Why not?" He asked irritably, then yawned. "There was no room and I don't mind. Besides, the house is cold." He snuggled deeper into the covers. He was warm now.

Snape laughed softly and Harry smiled. "Goodnight, Harry." Harry was already asleep.

* * *

><p>Harry woke and snuggled deeper under the covers. The tip of his nose was freezing. He warmed it with his own breath for a moment, then turned onto his back. The first thing he saw was Snape's arm, which was on top of the covers, lying across his chest. He looked at it for a moment, uncomprehending, then reached out to stroke it lightly. The hair was sparse and delicate, straight where his was curly. He traced a prominent vein with his finger, savouring the elastic touch under his fingertip.<p>

Huh. Strange. He followed it to the hand, which lay close to his head. The vein disappeared under a knuckle of a long-fingered, slender hand. Harry watched in dreamy fascination as the hair stood on end at his touch. He grasped the arm lightly and looked sideways. Obsidian eyes were watching him and he jolted fully awake.

The gaze didn't waver, the rest of the face was hidden beneath a curtain of hair, as usual. Harry felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck, frozen with terror.

Snape moved, sliding his arm across Harry's chest and, oh Merlin, Harry realized he was hard.

"Like what you see, Harry?" Despite the teasing undertone, Snape's dark voice didn't help at all.

"W- what?" Harry yelped, pulling the covers up even further. Snape laughed and this time, he did smile. Oh lords, Harry would never be able to get out of this bed if Snape didn't leave NOW. Fortunately, Snape stood, stretched, donned the robe and left the room with only as much as an amused glance at Harry.

Harry exhaled at the ceiling, pulling his hair in desperation. Despite his better judgement, he slid one hand down his briefs and fondled his enthusiastic balls. Which were only so because it was morning, he told himself firmly, grasping his dick. He was hard because it was still early and it was perfectly normal. Nothing a quick morning wank in the shower could take care of. Just morning wood, that's all. All blokes get them.

He janked his hand out of his pants before he could get to excited. He'd take care of this in the shower, not here, where Snape might walk in on him any moment- Harry shuddered at the thought and his cock pulsed. Brilliant! Bloody fucking brilliant! It was Christmas, and he couldn't even get out of bed!

After a satisfying shower he tumbled downstairs, finally calm enough to appreciate the feeling of festivity. He nearly bumped into Ron in the hallway.

Ron grinned at him. "Merry Christmas, Harry!" Harry smiled and they entered the sitting room together, where most of the Weasley family was already seated, breakfast table beautifully decorated and aching under the weight of many dishes. Harry's mouth watered at the sight and smell of them. A chorus of "Merry Christmas!" greeted them and Harry couldn't stop smiling. An enormous pile of presents littered the floor under and around the Christmas tree, which was blinking and glittering with fake snow, tiny, moving lights and bigger glowing orbs.

"We were waiting for you two," Mrs Weasley said in light reproach. "Come on, let's start, everyone."

Snape glided into the room, sporting a teacup. Harry smiled at him, before he remembered the morning and hastily looked away. He didn't miss Severus' smirk, though.

They settled down and after a rather loud and cheerful breakfast, they tackled the presents, paper flying everywhere. Harry let the Weasley's go first, and watched in pleasure as Ron beamed over his new set of flying goggles. When Ginny moved away, rifling through a book someone gave her, Harry moved forward and grabbed the parcel nearest to him. It was the traditional jumper, and Harry pulled it over his head, stroking the rough wool fondly. He got a book about the Dark Arts from Remus and a new chess set he knew was from Ron. A parcel of home-made biscuits was most surely from Mrs Weasley. Hagrid had sent him a small mole-skin bag which could only be opened by its owner. Hermione had given him a book, with the obscure title _The Wizards' Ways _by Fitzgerald Milk. Harry leafed through it, and felt his mouth fall open. After a moment of shocked stillness, he shut it hastily, hiding it under the rest of his presents. He was intent on perusing it at a later point. The twins had included their usual box of tricks, which seemed heavy on their new defence products.

Ron flexed his hands with a pleased expression, the leather Quidditch gloves Harry had given him stretching nicely. "Wicked! Bound to be usefull for our first game, the weather's been a pain-"

Harry gazed at his small pile of presents, a warm glow spreading through his stomach. It never failed to surprise him, year after year, how many people thought enough of him to buy him gifts.

"Merlin's pants-" Harry looked up to see Ron open the biggest box under the tree, wrapped in plain brown packing paper. _The Weasley family _was scrawled across the side. With an air of reverence, Ron carefully lifted a record player out of the box, causing astonished exclamations to spread around the tree.

"Out of my way!" Ron stood and with an air of carrying the holy grail, he set it upon the small coffee table, knocking the perfume Mrs Weasley had received off in the process. He smoothed down the device, which was obviously new, still gleaming. Harry turned around and saw Severus' satisfied smirk as he watched Ron's awe. Mr Weasley joined him and started stroking the device, just as his son. Harry stifled a snigger, masking it as a cough.

"There's records!" Ginny had peered into the box and withdrew a thin rectangle. "Carols!" Soon, the soothing sound of singing filled the room and everyone listened in reverence. Harry glanced at Snape again, who had closed his eyes to the sound of the music, a glass of eggnog held loosely in his hand.

"Thank you, Severus!" Molly Weasley said earnestly, putting her hand on his. Snape looked surprised, but didn't jerk his hand away. "You really shouldn't have, I know these are expensive-"

"Consider it payment for the kindness you have shown my bride," Snape said, uncomfortably shifting until Mrs Weasley removed her hand. It took Harry a moment to realize he had just been insulted.

"Hey!" Laughter surrounded him at his indignation and Snape's eyes glittered. "There something else for you." He gestured with his head towards the tree.

Harry looked again and found a soft parcel tucked away in a corner. Sure enough, _Mr Potter_ was scrawled across the side. He ripped the paper away and a pile of folded clothes spilled into his lap.

A dark green shirt, silk, with a light décolletée, leather straps decorating the collar, embroidered with silver beads. Harry trailed his fingers across the material, marvelling at how smooth and soft it was against his fingers, almost like his invisibility cloak. "This is for me?" he heard himself asking rather stupidly.

"Wow, mate-" Ron's finger trailed next to his. "Wicked!"

Harry looked up at Snape, speechless. You didn't have to be a tailor to see that this shirt was probably worth more than the rest of Harry's clothes combined. Snape's eyes glittered. "There's more."

Harry turned his attention to the coat. It was cut like a duelling robe, trailing slightly lower than his tailbone. It was firm material Harry couldn't identify, but was patched with leather. Around the front, thin silver threads were woven down his chest, glittering slightly. His breast pockets were lined with the same material as his shirt was made of. It occurred to Harry that Snape had to have this special ordered. Last there were slim trousers, made out of the same dark stretchy material as the coat was, with leather pads for his knees.

"My-" Molly Weasley said appreciatively, eyeing the clothes from afar. "Severus, you have really good taste. Harry will look positively gorgeous!"

"Yeah, Harry, you'll look smashing," one of the twins said, both of them grinning at Harry.

"Really elegant-"

"-posh-"

"-rich,-"

"So just be careful you leave the party at the Ministry with Snape-"

"- and not somebody else!"

Harry turned beet red at the laughter and looked at Snape, who scowled at the jibe. "Thank you," he said, unsure of what else was expected of him. "They're very nice."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement. "No spouse of mine is going to attend a Ministry Ball in rags."

"I- I got you something, too," Harry said, deeply uncomfortable. His gift surely hadn't been as pricey, nor was it at all grand. At least it was pure silver. He dug through the scattered wrapping paper until he found the small parcel.

"Here," Harry said, handing over the parcel. Unfortunately, Ron was not the only once curious about what he had given Snape and they found themselves in the centre of attention. Harry folded his hands in his lap nervously. Snape unwrapped the small parcel, surprise and curiosity clear in his features.

He opened the small, flat box and stared. Harry bit his lip, willing himself not be embarrass himself even more by starting to apologize. Snape slowly lifted the chain from it's blue velvety nest. Fine silver rings glittered in the firelight, flowing around Snape's fingers. Harry held his breath as the pendant was revealed, two entwined snakes, each scale glittering with a slightly different shade of silver. The snakes bit each other in the tail, forming a circle. Snape stared at the pendant, expression completely blank.

Finally, Harry couldn't take it anymore. "I just saw it in Hogsmeade and I thought it was right," he said, fidgeting and irritated at himself for the worried tone he was unable to keep out of his voice. And he was blushing again, damn it!

"It's just, you're Head of Slytherin and you know, married to a Parselmouth and I just thought- if you don't like it, I can always give it back and you can exchange it for something you like-"

"Harry," Snape interrupted him, finally looking at Harry. "It's- exquisite. Thank you." Harry gaped at him, then the tension left him and he smiled foolishly. "Oh. Er, you're welcome."

Snape took the ends of the necklace and attempted to close them behind his neck. He fumbled and scowled.

"Here," Harry stood, slipping on the wrapping paper, then standing next to Snape. "Let me-" He took the ends of the chain from Snape, who obligingly his back turned towards Harry and lowered his head. Harry gently removed the hair from Snape's neck, revealing pale skin. He fastened the clasp and let it rest on Snape's neck. He could resist tracing it's trail on the pale skin and he swore Snape shivered slightly.

"Thank you," Snape said again and Harry smiled at him. He looked up fast enough to see Arthur and Molly Weasley exchange a meaningful look.

"You know, that's actually kind of nifty," Ron eyed the pendant with interest when Harry settled back beside him. "Gotta tell you, though, you've got a thing with snakes, mate." Ron grinned at Harry, who grinned right back.

"I'm a Parselmouth married to a Slytherin, chased by a Slytherin Dark Wizard, own a snake- I think it's part of the job description." Ron laughed and eyed Harry's new chess set.

"How about a round of chess, Harry?"

Soon afterwards, Lupin and Tonks arrived and Mrs Weasley brought out the strange concoction Snape had been working on the last day. It turned out to be punch, rather liberally spiced with some kind of booze. Harry spent the day in a befuddled, but content, haze after his first glass. Through dinner he joked and laughed with the Weasleys, feeling just like a sixteen year old boy should feel: Stuffed, tipsy and happy. Snape wore his necklace the whole evening and Harry couldn't stop grinning. Even the fact that Charlie found a piece of a soaked Weasley product in his salad couldn't dampen his spirits.

Harry sat next to Severus at dinner, and they talked about the upcoming ball. "We will be departing from Hogwarts," Snape informed him, sipping his wine. "The Headmaster has been kind enough to provide us with a portkey that will take us straight to the Ministry."

"Alright," Harry said, content with pretty much everything. "When am I to go back to Hogwarts? You're not staying here with us, are you?"

Severus shook his head. "Unlike you, I have actual responsibilities to attend to. Professor Slughorn requires my assistance in restocking the Hospital Wing's Potion's supply. Somehow, the shallow insight needed to brew simple headache potions and remedies for menstrual cramps seems to evade him." Snape looked as contemptuous as they come. Harry grinned.

"Maybe he wants your company 'cause it's so boring. Have you gone and been nice to him, perhaps?"

Snape cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "Mr Potter, I think you should stop drinking my punch. It appears you are drunk already." Harry laughed and Snape smirked around his wineglass.

"You're right, that was too unlikely-"

Harry grabbed a second helping when a silver shape jumped threw the wall, causing him to shove his chair back in panic. A lynx strode through the dessert, then opened it's mouth and spoke in Kingsley's deep voice.

"There has been an attack. Death Eater's have ravaged Diagon Alley and are currently moving through London. Do not leave the house." The lynx dissolved, leaving a shocked silence behind.

Harry felt an icy feeling of dread cut through his warm haze. He exchanged a horrified look with Ron, who had turned pale, a stark contrast to his maroon jumper.

Tonks and Remus rose abruptly. "Wait," Snape's voice cut through the air. He disappeared through the door.

"Remus, Dora-" Mrs Weasley sounded pleading. "Kingsley said to stay in the house-"

"I'm sorry, Molly," Remus said softly, but firmly, buttoning up his coat. "We have to go."

Tonks said nothing, but her hair receded into her skull until it was spiky short, then it turned black, instead of the festive red. She gathered her robes and spelled them shorter.

Bill, Charlie and the twins rose as well. "No!" This time, Molly Weasley jumped to her feet, her face red. "No, you're not all going-"

"Mum," Bill said softly, squeezing her hands. "You know we have to."

"I'll watch out for them," Mr Weasley said, worry lines prominent on his face.

"Arthur-" Tears were streaming down Mrs Weasley's face now and Ginny put a comforting arm around her. "Please- not on Christmas-"

"You know we have to, Molly," Arthur Weasley sounded so tired to Harry and Ron looked at his father in panic.

Snape strode back into the room, different robes and a fierce look on his face. He was carrying a small flask. "For the alcohol," he said curtly passing it on to Charlie. He pulled a face as the flask made it's round across the table. Finally, it returned to Snape, who also took a large gulp.

"You're going, too?" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course, Mr Potter," Snape's face turned even more sour at the taste and he made a move to follow the others as they filed out of the room. "Do you presume me a coward? Of all the aurors in the Ministry, I am best equipped to fight the Dark Lord's Death Eaters."

"But what if they catch you?" Harry thought wildly that his tone sounded astoundingly like Mrs Weasley's who was now quietly sobbing Ginny's arms.

"They won't" Snape bared his teeth in feral anger. "I'll die sooner."

"Don't," Harry said, clutching Snape's arm. They wouldn't let him come, he knew it, they would never let him. "Don't die. Just- come back." Snape looked down at him, his eyes dark and endless. He nodded curtly and Harry let his grip loosen. Snape strode outside, following the others and left Harry behind with a sick feeling in his stomach. Empty and dreading. He looked at Ron, who was watching the bigger part of his family leave.

"We should go with them," he said bitterly, glaring at the door all their loved ones had just left through. Harry nodded tersely, furious at his impotence. This had to stop. Voldemort had to be defeated. Families shouldn't be forced to suffer, Mrs Weasley shouldn't have to watch her children and her husband march into battle. It was wrong.

They cleaned off the table in silence, Mrs Weasley sniffling and insisting to put stasis charms on everything. Harry cleared off the dishes in silence, working hand-in-hand with Ginny. Whatever problems they had, they seemed petty now. Not when Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Remus, Severus-

Harry set the plates down with more force than necessary, shattering the lowest one. He apologized to Mrs Weasley, who mended the damage with a quick wave of her wand, then insisted they all go upstairs and into bed. Harry entered their bedroom and stood, clenching and unclenching his fists. Severus' nightclothes were casually slung across the footrest of the bed. Harry stared at the slacks, then turned on his heels. He stormed into Ron's bedroom, only to see that Ginny was already there. Ron sat on his bed, tensely hugging his knees to his chest. Harry purposefully left the door open. And settled next to Ron, leaning against the wall. None of them spoke.

Harry watched the sliver of moonlight slowly creep across the ceiling. He thought of their third-year; how silly, how trifling their troubles then seemed, compared to now. Just a mass murderer on the loose, big deal. Oh, and a werewolf. But that was okay, both of them turned out to be friends, even family. Harry closed his eyes and his heart clenched in a familiar way as he thought what had occurred since then. Sirius would have been furious-

A door slammed downstairs and Harry's eyes snapped open. He hastened after Ron, who was already through the door, Ginny pushing impatiently from behind. Fred and George were in the kitchen, talking in low voices to Mrs Weasley. Harry felt a pang of relief seep through him as he saw they were sweaty, tired, but unharmed. Ginny threw herself at George, who laughed.

"I'm alright, Gin, really, unless you plan on hugging me to death-"

"How are the others?" Harry asked Fred. Fred wiped some dirt off his face, smearing it further.

"Dad's alright, he's helping with the clean-up, lots of Muggles to obliviate-"

"What about Bill? Charlie?" Ron urged him on, impatient.

"Charlie's fine, he was helping Dad. I didn't see Bill, but Dad said he was alright, he was with Lupin, they were separated-"

"Snape?" Harry asked, and he felt his mouth dry around the word.

"I think I saw him, I'm not sure, he was fighting like mad though-"

"What happened anyway? What's going-"

"Enough!" Mrs Weasley stopped their onslaught of questions. "Everyone, sit. I'll make us a cup of tea and we'll talk."

She waved her wand at the teapot and it started to boil.

"The Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley tonight," Fred explained, sitting down heavily. "The place is completely trashed."

"What about your shop?" Ginny asked anxiously, her eyes wide. Harry felt his stomach curl. He had completely forgotten about that.

George sent her a tired smile, accepting a mug of tea from his mother. "We'll manage. Didn't get a close look, but I reckon it's bad. Still, we're alive, eh?"

"When they'd had enough there, they turned towards Muggle London. Completely destroyed Picadilly Square. One big crater left. Set fire to the stores. Ministry is working on a cover-up story, something about a gas-leak- It was horrible." Fred shuddered.

"They left when the Aurors arrived," George continued. "I think they didn't really want to fight, just cause mayhem."

"They did that alright," Fred added darkly. "The reason we were gone so long was we were stuck with the mop-up- everyone was in panic, Muggles, wizards- chaos." Harry thought he could still see some of it in Fred's eyes.

"You could have sent word," Mrs Weasley said reproachfully.

"Sorry, Mum, there wasn't time," Fred smiled tiredly.

"What about Tonks?" Harry remembered suddenly. "You didn't say-"

"She's fine," George said quickly. "Saw her with Lupin." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and exchanged a smile with Ron. At least their own were safe. Mrs Weasley looked slightly calmer, although her gaze regularly flickered towards the door. They continued quizzing Fred and George about the events until the door slammed again.

All of them looked towards the door. The tall frame of Bill entered first, followed by Charlie and Mr Weasley. Harry grinned in as he saw them, hugging their family. Then he saw a dark, lean shape enter the kitchen, almost unnoticeable. Harry felt weak with relief and grasped for his chair.

Harry couldn't get past the bulk of Weasley's but his eyes never left Snape. He saw the man look around the kitchen until he found him. His shoulders seemed to drop slightly and Harry smiled crookedly across the room. Something like a smile flitted across Snape's face, then it was gone and the dark expression was back.

Harry listened to Arthur Weasley explain what had happened again, gently freeing himself from the clutches of his wife.

"The place is swarming with Ministry wizards, never seen anything like it! In the end, there wasn't much to do for us, so Dumbledore sent us home, it wasn't order business once the Death Eaters left. The Department for Magical Catastrophes took over. Massive obliviation charms, I tell you-"

Harry noticed that Snape had gone. Probably slipped out of the room. He hovered, unsure of wherever to follow or stay and listen. Once he had assured himself that Tonks and Remus were unharmed, he excused himself and slid out of the kitchen. He went upstairs and found Snape already in bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His hair was moist, so Harry assumed he had already showered. Telling himself sternly _not _to say anything stupid, he changed into his nightclothes, then climbed into bed, extinguishing the lights. He felt Snape lay beside him, stiff as a board.

"They took some of the Muggles." Snape's voice was flat in the darkness.

Harry swallowed. Oh gods. "How many?"

"I don't know. Maybe two or three. Maybe more."

Harry said nothing. There were no words. He felt a tremor run through his body. He knew. He had seen it in his dreams. Snape knew, too. Probably even better than he did. He had been there many, many times. Had to watch. Had to listen. He felt cold, so cold.

Snape turned over in bed and Harry reached out without a thought. He fumbled, sliding closer. Snape started, then gave a shuddering breath as Harry scooted closer. Severus arms enveloped Harry and he reached out in return, pulling his husband closer. Harry rested his head on top of Severus' and silently let his tears drop into the dark, wet hair, while Severus' breath came in short gasps against Harry's chest. Harry's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into Snape's back, and he closed his eyes, trying not to think of the screams. They held each other in silence.

* * *

><p>When Harry woke, they were still entwined with one another. Harry sighed at the warmth surrounding him, and smiled. Then the events of last night came crashing back and his face fell. He sighed again, heavily this time. At some point at night, he had slid more to the foot of the bed, so that Snape's head was now higher than his. Snape was lightly tracing Harry's back and despite everything, Harry shivered at the touch. That a simple touch could still make him feel like this, still make him so excited, despite everything that had happened last night- that was either a miracle or a sacrilege.<p>

"Were you hurt?" Snape jumped, obviously unaware that Harry had awoken. Harry waited patiently. "Last night, I mean."

"No," Severus said finally, and his hands stopped moving. Harry frowned against Snape's shirt.

"But they weren't there to stage a battle."

"Why, then?" Harry asked, and the wonderful fingers resumed their movement on his shoulders.

"Fear," Severus said blandly. "They're spreading fear and panic. The Dark Lord will make sure no one will feel safe, will not know whom to trust and whom to turn to for help. He will let fear work for him, destabilise the Ministry and shatter people's trust in their ability to protect them, until they are unable to think clearly. Akin to wild beasts, they will turn on one another. Just like they did last time."

Harry shuddered, though he didn't know wherever it was due to the speech or Severus' hands. Both were doing frightening things to his thoughts. And he was becoming acutely aware of a problem in the downstairs department. He shifted awkwardly, squirming his groin away and Severus released him from his arms. Harry looked at his face for the first time. He looked haggard and tired, but otherwise expressionless. Harry averted his gaze and climbed out of bed, careful not to let Snape see his front. He grabbed Snape's bathing robe, since he didn't own one himself.

"I'll just borrow this," he said, then fled from the room, giving Snape no opportunity to decline. He wrapped it firmly around himself. He nearly bumped into Charlie in the hall.

"Alright there, Harry?" He looked down at Harry, amused. Harry quickly proceeded to the bathroom and shut himself in, exhaling in relief.

They met downstairs for and awkward breakfast. They all talked in low voices or not at all, their holiday spirit vanquished. Harry saw Snape's bag near the door and his heart fell. Right. Christmas was over, Snape was probably happy to leave this all behind.

When Severus stood and grabbed it, Harry followed him to the sitting room. They stood in a moment in front of the hearth. Snape looked at him, his expression unreadable. Harry looked back at him, unwilling for him to go. Last night had been- nice. Comforting in all the darkness surrounding them. Now he'd have to sleep alone again.

"Bye then," he said finally, rocking on his heels, awkward. Snape bowed lightly.

"Take care, Harry." He stepped into the fire and was gone in a whoosh. Harry stared at the receding flames, red and yellow once again, then went back to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>News about the attack floated in with other order members checking in as well as the Daily Prophet. Further attacks occurred in Leeds, Nottingham, Cardiff and Glasgow. Each time, muggles were tortured, killed and captured and some important wizarding and muggle location was destroyed. Only one Death Eater was caught, a young, raving man, Derek Witting. Harry had never heard of him. From what he gathered, he was a fairly new addition to Voldemort's ranks.<p>

"Cannon fodder," Bill had remarked darkly before departing again.

Harry sat at the table, stirring his tea. Ron was struggling with his homework for a change- Harry just couldn't force himself to tackle it. The whole day had passed in a shimmer of listlessness. They heard the _whoosh _ of the fireplace and both turned, expecting an order member returning with a report. Harry's heart did a peculiar little jig of surprise when Snape entered the kitchen, glancing around warily. His gaze cleared when he spotted Harry.

"Severus!" Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet in delight. He quickly checked his reaction- and suppressed the smile fighting it's way onto his face. Really, this was embarrassing.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you your Potion's assignment," he handed Harry a sheet of paper, which was dotted with red ink. "Heed these remarks and you might even hand in a passable piece of work." Snape smirked at Ron's disgusted face. "Mr Weasley, I've heard you are doing- _acceptable _in Potions. Knowing your affinity to the craft, I'm afraid it has to be due to the decreasing standards rather than your increase in knowledge." Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

Harry nudged Snape lightly, frowning. Snape sneered down at him and Harry sighed.

"Thank you for the help." Snape nodded, then made his way to the door.

Harry stared at his retreating back in dismay. "Wait!"

Snape stopped and turned, eyebrow poised.

"Are you going back already?"

"I have a task I must attend to. Poppy needs me to brew some cold remedies in anticipation of all the snivelling students who will arrive shortly and whose parents have failed to protect them from contracting an infection." Snape sniffed derisively.

Harry rolled his eyes at the long-winded explanation. "Would like some tea, at least?"

Snape hesitated delicately, but Harry had the impression it was just for appearance sake. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Snape slid onto the chair farthest away from Ron.

"Maybe just a cup," he said, tone implying he was doing them all a great honour. Harry skipped to the stove, smiling at the kettle.

Harry and Ron grilled Snape with questions concerning the attacks, which he answered with astounding patience. Ron excused himself when it became clear that Snape knew nothing more than they did, or at least wasn't willing to reveal it. Harry twiddled with his teacup.

"Are you, er, nervous because of New Year? 'Cause of the ball, I mean."

Snape sipped his tea. "I am perfectly well aware of what you mean. No, not in particular. I assure you, after being quizzed by the Dark Lord on multiple occasions, the prospect of an interrogation by the Ministry doesn't frighten me."

"Still," Harry argued, groping for some biscuits. "If this goes wrong- people could get on our case."

"Which would be unfortunate, but not largely so," Snape amended. "After all, the interviewer is not a supporter of the Dark Lord. She will hopefully not let herself be overly influenced by office gossip."

"But maybe other people will," Harry implied darkly.

Snape sighed. "True. Yet I still regard this as a rather large nuisance more than anything else."

"Well, at least one of us is calm;" Harry said irritably, refilling their cups.

Snape smirked. "Tell me Harry, which part terrifies you most? The fact that every person there will be watching you and me interact, judging our compatibility? Wondering why in the name of Merlin the Chosen One married someone with my rather unfavourable reputation? Or is it the dancing?"

Harry felt the familiar heat creep up the back of his neck. "No! Well... Both, I guess. I can't dance."

"Neither can I," Snape said dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Most of the pompous prats don't posses the necessary motor skills to coordinate successfully inside their own office."

Harry snorted into his tea. "Severus!" Mr Weasley entered the kitchen and dared to put his hand on Snape's shoulder in greeting. "How are you?"

"I cannot complain," Snape looked at his shoulder with a face that suggested that he would like to do just that. "And how are you yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine," Mr Weasley waved his hand, but couldn't hide the fact that he, just as everyone else, looked tired. "Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Severus! Hello, dear! Of course he will," Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen, levitating a bag of groceries in front of her. Harry jumped up as she plunked them on the table and stared unpacking.

"Thank you, Harry- of course you're staying, I insist! I have something special planned today, just you wait-"

Snape watched Harry store away the food. "In that case, I seem to be bereft of a choice," he answered silkily and Harry grinned covertly.

Snape ended up staying late into the evening, joining the evening round of drinks. Harry nipped his own scotch, thinking he preferred butterbeer and sat at Snape's feet again. He played a round of Exploding Snap against Ron and laughed as the set blew up spectacularly in Ron's face. Leila slithered away from all the noise.

"I'm afraid I have lingered too long," Severus finally drained his glass and stood up, bowing lightly to Mrs Weasley. "Molly, thank you for your dinner invitation, it was most appreciated. Arthur, thank you for the drinks."

"It was nothing, nothing," Arthur stood, wiping his hands on his tattered robes.

"Mr Weasley, Harry, I wish you both a pleasant evening." Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I'm glad you came," Harry blurted out, straightening his jumper. He grinned at Snape. "It's weird, not seeing you every day."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "It seems you are a creature of habit, Mr Potter."

"Maybe I am," Harry smiled. Snape's eyes reflected the firelight, casting a gold sheen over the black. "Goodnight, _Professor."_

"Goodnight, Harry." He departed and Harry turned around to see three pairs of heads snap down, decidedly busy with whatever conveniently was in their laps. He sat back down and shuffled the cards. "Rematch?"

* * *

><p>Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this fic. I'm just busy with my real life. Criticism of any sort is appreciated, as usual.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm afraid I have lingered too long," Severus finally drained his glass and stood up, bowing lightly to Mrs Weasley. "Molly, thank you for your dinner invitation, it was most appreciated. Arthur, thank you for the drinks."

"It was nothing, nothing," Arthur stood, wiping his hands on his tattered robes.

"Mr Weasley, Harry, I wish you both a pleasant evening." Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I'm glad you came," Harry blurted out, straightening his jumper. He grinned at Snape. "It's weird, not seeing you every day."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "It seems you are a creature of habit, Mr Potter."

"Maybe I am," Harry smiled. Snape's eyes reflected the firelight, casting a gold sheen over the black. "Goodnight, _Professor."_

"Goodnight, Harry." He departed and Harry turned around to see three pairs of heads snap down, decidedly busy with whatever conveniently was in their laps. He sat back down and shuffled the cards. "Rematch?"

* * *

><p>Harry spat out the toothpaste and wiped his mouth. He glanced at his reflection, ruffling through his hair. Leila was curled up in her usual spot on the shelf, waiting for him to go to bed. Harry leaned on the sink, wondering wherever to shave in the morning. He stroked his jaw, thinking about the holidays. Christmas had been eventful, at any rate. At least no one got hurt and Harry thanked every deity he knew for that. The very thought of any of his loved one suffering was too much to bear. Thankfully, even Snape had returned unscathed.<p>

Come to think of it, it was weird enough that his time spent with the Weasleys had gone so well. Harry smiled, humming under his breath as he remembered Christmas morning. The unwrapping of the gifts, the food, happy people all around, clad in their just-received Weasley jumpers- The image of Snape reclining in his armchair, listening to the music, flickered in his mind. Severus had had his eyes closed, the firelight playing across his features, the pendant Harry had given him nestled into the robes on his chest. Harry remembered how a small smile had crept on his face. A tender warmth, so strong and deep, awoke within him at the thought. Then he caught a look of his own expression in the mirror.

No.

Oh, no.

Please, no.

Too late. Fuck. He was in love with Severus Snape. He knew without a single doubt that he was in love and it was not going to end well.

Harry stared at himself in shock, the warm feeling in his chest now laced with fear of hurt to come. He was in love and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd better not even think about, because there was no way in hell Snape would feel the same way about him. He would bury his own feelings until they went away, because they had to. Nothing good would ever come of this and he couldn't allow himself to think differently. Even the mere hope, that perhaps, one day, Severus might look at him, see Harry, smile and- Harry put a hand over his thundering heart, willing it to calm. That would be _everything. _

Fuck, it hurt already. It hurt that he would do and give anything for Severus Snape. It hurt that it didn't matter.

Harry groaned. Why, _why _did it always have to end with him being in pain?

_What is the matter? _Leila raised her head, her forked tongue tasting the air.

"I'm fucked," Harry informed her, miserable. "Utterly and completely."

Leila blinked at him. _So you are. _

Harry scooped her up and headed for his bedroom.

* * *

><p>New Years Eve came much too soon for Harry's liking. He fiddled with his shirt, tightening the leather bands so that less of his skin showed. He looked at himself in the mirror. Mrs Weasley had tried to give him a decent haircut for the occasion, but for the love of Merlin he couldn't spot any difference. Green eyes looked anxiously back at him from the mirror.<p>

"You can do this," he told his pale reflection. "It's just a ball. Nothing to be scared of!" Leila was curled up next to it, but didn't answer.

The pale face in the mirror remained unconvinced. Harry sighed and looked down at his wedding band. He put on a small amount of the perfume Charlie had left behind, then attempted to flatten his hair one last time. It resisted. Sighing once more, Harry then went downstairs, his stomach churning around the rather large dinner Mrs Weasley had forced into him, Leila a reassuring weight in his pocket.

"Harry, dear! You look wonderful!" Mrs Weasley straightened his collar fondly, then handed him his jacket. Harry smiled gratefully, but didn't fully trust his voice.

"Yeah mate, you look great'" Ron thumped him on the back. "It'll be just fine."

"I hope it's alright if we don't wait up for you, Harry," Mrs Weasley said, a weary smile gracing her features. "It's just that it's been a busy week and since you'll be after midnight-"

"No, no," Harry interjected quickly. "Really, Mrs Weasley, it's fine, I'll find my way back."

"Besides, Mum, Snape will be there to watch him," Ron said.

"Professor Snape, Ron," Mrs Weasley correcting, fussing over Harry. "You'd better get going, you wouldn't want to be late!"

"Right," Harry said quickly, fighting his nerves. He threw a handful of green powder into the flames.

"Good luck, Harry!" Mrs Weasley beamed at him, but Harry could see she was worried.

"Have fun, mate! Give Snape a good jig from me!" Ron grinned lopsidedly. Harry's answering smile was more of a grimace.

"Severus Snape's quarters, Hogwarts!" The flames took him away.

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, careful not to get ashes onto his new clothes. They felt uncomfortably tight. He let Leila out of his pocket: She hated travelling by Floo. She slithered away her usual blanket and curled into the nest she made there.

_I should be going with you. _

Harry shook his head. "No. It's not a place for a serpent, even one as beautiful as you." Leila usually responded well to compliments. Harry'd be damned if he hadn't picked up a habit or two from Snape. "I'll be fine."

_Be careful. Some of the snakes there might be venomous. _

Harry assured her he would. He had just knelt to stroke her when he heard the bedroom door open. Snape hadn't noticed him yet, he was fiddling with a golden ring on his hand. He was clad in robes very similar to his own. His shirt, however, was a deep, dark blue, the colour of the night sky the as the moment after the sun had set.

His hair was wavy and shining, so unlike it's usual state that Harry wondered wherever Snape had taken a potion to it. Snape's belt was heavy black leather, the silver belt-buckle accentuating his hips nicely. His robe was cut short, so his pants were visible and gods, they were _tight. _Harry found himself staring at the man's hip as he walked right past him, wondering for a moment wherever what had just moved below the buckle could possibly-

He swallowed and Snape whipped around. "Potter!" He thundered and Harry saw he had already grasped his wand. "Merlin, boy, never do that!"

"Sorry," Harry said, regaining his power of speech. He tried to stop staring when he saw a glint of silver around Snape's neck. He took a step closer- Yes, it was his Christmas gift to Severus. Harry felt a strange flutter in his stomach when he realized Snape was going to wear it in public.

He looked up at Severus face, who was watching him avidly. "Er, you look- good." He fought off the _sir _which was stubbornly trying to attach itself to the end of that sentence. Snape looked so- intimidating. Though not in his usual, menacing kind of way. Harry's heart was doing a funny sort of flip-flops in his chest. Silently, he cursed his recent revelation. This would have been so much easier had he remained ignorant.

"Thank you, Harry. Might I add you look quite fetching, as well, as I'm sure you are aware of and tired of hearing." Harry blushed and he looked at his feet. New, black boots gleamed there, purchased for him by Mrs Weasley, who insisted such an outfit couldn't be left uncompleted. If he had let her, he would probably own matching gloves and a scarf.

"Mrs Weasley said I looked good, yeah," He said, at loss for words. His heart was fluttering in his chest. He peeked up at Snape, whose gaze was still glued to him.

"Don't we have to go?"

Snape shook himself. "Yes, indeed we do. Come, Mr Potter, the portkey is over there."

An ink pot rested on the table. Harry grinned at Sna- Severus. He was Severus now.

"So you finally found it?"

Severus smirked. "This isn't mine, you impertinent brat . You still owe me one."

"Oh, alright, next Christmas then," Harry said lightly and was rewarded with a chuckle. His stomach fluttered again. Must be the nerves. He took the arm Severus offered, then touched the ink pot. Severus tapped it with his wand and Harry was jerked into the darkness. It spit him out a second later, into a brightly lit hall. Harry blinked owlishly, eyes adjusting to the light.

The hall was brightly lit, fairy lights glittering around the candelabra, the floor tiled and gleaming. Two uniformed wizards in smart blue robes stood in a golden archway. Harry saw they had gleaming badges on their chests, two overlapping letters M, golden and gleaming.

"Good evening, gentlemen! Welcome!" One of the wizards beckoned them. He was short and plump, with a thick moustache.

"Harry Potter and Severus Snape," Snape informed him in a drawling tone and the wizard nodded, his eyes flickering to Harry and back.

"If I may see your wands, please," Harry drew his, having to let go of Severus for that moment. He presented it to the security wizard, who tapped it with his own wand, then nodded.

"Very good, sir. Now, if you could just hold still for a moment-" he passed his wand over Harry, screening him from head to foot. Harry watched as Severus was subjected to the same treatment.

"Very good! Mr Snape, Mr Potter, I wish you a pleasant evening and a happy New Year!" He waved them through the archway. Snape nodded and Harry stuttered a good wish in return. He followed Severus through a hallway and into a big ballroom. Harry stood in shock and blinked. It was at least the size of the Great Hall in Hogwarts, if not even bigger. The ceiling sparkled, light grey stone interlaced with gold, candelabras hanging from it in regular intervals, illuminating the great dance floor beneath. To Harry's right, a big buffet was being served by house elves, a throng of wizards already queuing around it. There was also a bar, additionally to the silver tablets that were floating in mid-air. There were low sofas and coffee tables on Harry's left and all around the Hall, already occupied by dozens of witches and wizards. Harry realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. When a couple pressed past him, giving him a glowering look, Harry realized he was still standing in the entrance, blocking it. He jumped aside, mumbling apologies to the people behind him.

His abrupt movement had removed him from Snape's side. Severus weaved through the crowd to join Harry again.

"Calm down, boy!" Snape hissed in displeasure, then checked himself. Harry watched him arrange his features into a softer expression, then he put a soothing hand on Harry's shoulder.

"It alright," he murmured into Harry's ear and Harry felt his shoulders slump slightly as he relaxed. "Just remember that even Longbottom could outwit most of these blundering idiots."

"Neville's actually pretty smart, you know," He defended his friend, though not with much conviction. Music stuck up somewhere and Harry noticed a small stage that had escaped him before, where musicians were taking up their places.

"Harry! Severus!" Dumbledore strode towards the two of them, crudely magenta robes shining with brightly orange stars. Harry stared at the unusual outfit.

"Headmaster," Severus inclined his head, perfectly polite.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry said.

"Welcome!" Professor Dumbledore beamed with such a joy that suggested it was his very own birthday party. "Have you had something to drink yet? No? Come on then!"

He dragged them towards the nearest floating tablet and handed each of them a bubbling glass full of what Harry suspected to be champagne.

"To a happy new year!" Harry took a sip and tried not to make a face- the stuff was sickly sweet.

"Now, my boys," Dumbledore leaned slightly forward, his voice dropping and losing his jovial tone. "I want you to remember that you are safe here. Most of the order is here tonight and many of the Minister's aurors. You are as well protected here from Voldemort as you are at Hogwarts. I want you to forget all about that and just have a bit of fun, eh!" Dumbledore winked at Harry. Harry gave him a forced smile and glanced at Snape. He had pained expression on his face, as though he really, really wanted to scowl, but was trying to stop himself. Harry snorted, hiding his face by looking at the floor.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore looked as though everything was right with the world. "Ah, Dennis, how are you, have you met my dear friends?"

Harry found himself being introduced to a wizard in plain, yet neat black robes, who shook his hand dutifully and appeared unfazed by Dumbledore's cheery demeanour. Apparently, he was a leading expert when it came to extracting curses and disarming magical traps. He was eyeing Snape with a certain distaste. Harry stepped closer to him, while Dumbledore continued to prattle on.

They finally disengaged from Dumbledore and Snape led Harry away towards the bar. He ordered himself a firewhisky, which he downed immediately, then scowled at their surroundings.

"Harry, m'boy!" Fudge approached them, wearing green robes fitting to his usual bowl hat. "How are you?"

"Hello, Mini- er, Mr Fudge," Harry said awkwardly, shaking the man's hand. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Ah, Severus," Fudge just seemed to notice Snape, who was eyeing him with an air of lofty distaste. "So it's true then." Snape raised an eyebrow at him and Harry felt just as surprised at the blunt approach.

"What do you mean, Fudge?" Snape said coldly, leaning against the bar and away from the man.

"Well, there've been rumours, of course, that you and young Harry here-" Fugde's eyes flickered towards Harry, "Have decided to, to-"

"Joined our names in the holy bond of matrimony, yes," Snape said dryly and Harry hid a quick grin.

"Precisely," Fugde said, rocking on his toes, looking from Harry to Snape. "One might wonder..."

"Wonder what, Mr Fudge?" Harry asked, irritated by the man's hinting. "Why I chose to marry Severus?"

"Why _you _chose-" Fudge stared at him, flustered. "Well, yes, I suppose that is a question one might ask-"

"Do I need to justify myself to you?" Harry asked, having enough of it. This man was a fool, one of the blundering idiot Severus' had spoken of and was probably one of the many people that could make Harry's life exceedingly difficult.

"I can choose to be with whomever I want," he declared, sliding closer to Snape, leaning against him.

"Why, yes, Harry, of course, of course," Fudge was backtracking under Harry's angry gaze. "It is simply a matter of, of, of suitability."

"Severus suits me," Harry said firmly. Gods, this man was thick.

"Well, yes, then all is right. By all means, carry on, I have to-" and he was gone. Harry exhaled, his shoulders slumping. And they had only just arrived.

"My, my," Snape chuckled and rested the empty liquor container on the bar. "Quite the little lion, are you?"

"Gryffindor," Harry said, smiling up at him. "Besides, he's a git." He glanced at the bar, too, wondering wherever they had butterbeer.

"Mr Potter!" A witch in flowing, light blue robes hurried towards them, dragging a wispy man alongside her. Harry stared at he- she looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place her.

"Kept out of trouble, I presume? It's been a few months since I last saw you in my courtroom!"

Harry realized with a shock that this was in fact, Amelia Bones, whom he had seen in trial a few times.

"Mrs Bones, how do you do?" He bowed to her politely. She blushed slightly and Harry wondered how much she already had to drink.

"Fine, thank you very much. May I introduce my husband, Mr Ian Bones." Harry shook his hand politely, then saw her looking at Snape pointedly. He felt an embarrassed heat flood him.

"This is Severus Snape, my husband," he quickly amended, hoping he had caused no offence. Snape bowed politely to Mrs Bones, whom he knew, Harry was sure, and shook her husbands hand.

"I hope you both are enjoying the festivities, then? The decorations have turned out rather grand." Amelia Bones sipped some of her champagne.

"Minister Scrimgeour doesn't like to do things halfway," Snape commented dryly. Amelia Bones threw him a look Harry didn't understand.

"No, he usually doesn't," she said, her husband looking longingly at the bar behind her back. "But tell me, how have you procured yourself Mr Potter here as spouse?"

Harry tried not to roll his eyes. Did people really have nothing better to talk about? There was a war about, for Merlin's sake!

"It seems I was lucky," Snape purred, directing his gaze at Harry, who smiled automatically. "I had little choice in that matter. Harry was very persistent. The first time Gryffindor stubbornness has worked in my favour." Amelia Bones laughed boomingly and Harry tried to look coy and happy.

"Well, I must go then, people to meet," She said curtly, nodding at them, then towing her husband behind her. Harry gaped after her.

"Are they all going to be like that?" He gazed at Severus, hoping he would contradict him. "Are they all just going to come here, ask stupid questions about our relationship then go away?"

"Most likely," Snape said, ordering himself another firewhisky.

"Make that two," Harry said weakly, wondering wherever they could just make camp right here, at the bar.

They mingled, sipping the champagne Harry hated. Mixing with the firewhisky, it made him feel- fuzzy. And slightly nauseous. And it was over an hour till midnight. The room was full of chattering groups now, loud and crowded. Snape suggested they go sit down, so they crossed the hall, squeezing through the crowd.

They finally collapsed on one of the small settees, looking at the hoard of ministerial officials. Harry couldn't bring himself to lean back in such a manner as Severus did, he was much to pent up. The swirling of brightly coloured robes and the mixture of alcohol in his stomach unsettled him.

"I'm going to the loo," Harry said, vaguely wondering if throwing up would help settle his stomach.

"I'll wait here," Snape said, watching the crowd.

Harry left, weaving in and out of the crowd. In the marble-tiled bathroom, he splashed himself in the face with cold water. It helped a bit. On his way back, he stopped by the bar, ordering a glass of water. He gulped it down and his stomach finally settled a bit.

"Hello, Mr Potter," a deep voice said from behind him. A tall, blond man stood there, maybe a few years older than Harry. He was rather well built, his crimson robes accentuating his broad chest.

"I believe we haven't been introduced yet. My name is Arthur Tanner. Call me Arthur." Arthur smiled at Harry, showing him his perfect white teeth. Harry shook the offered hand, and couldn't help but notice how strong it was.

"I'm Head of the auror training programme," Arthur said, sliding next to Harry to lean against the bar. "I've heard you might be thinking of joining us?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, surprised this was such common knowledge. Being an auror was really the only career he had ever thought about. But then, he rarely thought about it. He had no choice about his future as long as Voldemort was alive.

Arthur looked pleased at the admission. "That's something to look forward to, then." Harry saw him shamelessly look him up and down, then flick his blue eyes back to Harry's face. "We need strong wizards like you." Arthur smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling pleasantly.

Harry swallowed nervously, feeling warm all of the sudden. He smiled back uncertainly before taking another hasty gulp of water. This man's gaze was somewhat- predatory, but Harry didn't think he'd actually want to harm him.

"Are you good in defence, then?" Arthur continued his interrogation, reaching across the bar and playing with the coasters that lay near Harry's elbow.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. I've had lots of practice," Harry said, thinking about the DA. They all were pretty good. "Which House were you in when you were in Hogwarts?"

"Gryffindor," Arthur answered immediately, as though there was only one correct answer. "I graduated a few years ago. Must've been, what, your second year? When that basilisk was on the loose?"

"Yeah," Harry said, remembering. That year had been horrible, but nothing compared to now. But even then Voldemort had been trying to kill him. Seemed to be a recurring theme throughout his life.

"We could use fine, young men like you on our team," Arthur slid closer and Harry found himself staring up at the handsome man, who was suddenly all up in his space. He could smell him, a hearty, masculine scent with a whiff of sweat. "Should you be interested in any- private lessons, I would be honoured. If you want to, I could give you a tour of the training facilities someday." He was standing uncomfortably close, his face inches away from Harry's, who couldn't help but notice that Tanner had a fine ring of gold surrounding his pupils, melding seamlessly with the blue. Then Harry finally got it. He jumped back, knocking into a wizard behind him.

"I'm sorry," Harry didn't look at Arthur, but drained his glass. "I've got to go, my husband will be wondering where I've gotten to." He hurried away, cursing himself. Hermione was right, he really was naïve.

He felt rumpled, squashed and warm when finally reached the other side of the dance floor. He was still furious with himself. Of course they thought he would jump the first-best good looking guy, he was only a stupid teenager, after all! And he had almost not realized what the hell they were doing. He had almost proven them right, damn it!

He found Snape's settee now occupied by someone else. He looked around wildly- there he was, just off to the side a bit. And across from him, leisurely prowling, was Scrimgeour.

"I am no fool, Mr Snape," Scrimgeour growled as Harry approached. In his golden robes he looked even more like an old, tattered lion. "There are several things you might have done to convince the young boy to- accept your propositions." Scrimgeour's hand clenched around his cane and Harry saw a muscle in Severus' jaw twitch, though his face remained blank.

"Are you accusing me-"

"Actually, _Minister," _He laced the word with as much venom as possible, imagining Leila's angry hiss in his ear, "it was I who had trouble convincing Severus to accept my proposal." Scrimgeour's lackeys, who had been busy glaring daggers at Severus, jumped and turned. Harry strode past them and towards Severus, who eyed him with a mixture of surprise and disdain.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," Scrimgeour said smoothly, as though Harry hadn't just caught him in the middle of harassing his husband. "I hope you are enjoying your evening?"

"Moderately," Harry spat. "I've just met Arthur Tanner." A muscle twitched in Scrimgeour's polite expression and Harry felt cold with fury.

"Ah, yes, bright young fellow. He'll go far. Did you enjoy his company?"

"No, definitely not. I think you need to teach your aurors about personal boundaries. I am a married man, after all." He snuck his arm around Severus waist, who pulled him closer. He looked up and Severus smirked down at him. Harry smiled and felt himself calm a bit. He turned back towards the Minister, who was watching him with eagle eyes. Harry sneered at him.

"You know young men these days," Scrimgeour said threateningly. "Don't know when they are overstepping boundaries." Harry reminded himself that this wasn't Fudge he was dealing with.

"And Harry was well within his," Snape interjected, his arm around Harry's shoulders twitching. "Is there anything else, Minister?"

Scrimgeour stalked away, leaning heavily on his cane.

* * *

><p>Severus was furious. That blown up ignoramus of an auror dared accuse him of coercing Harry in some manner. Severus snarled to himself. That's what they all were thinking, wasn't it? No matter. They were wrong. He felt the boy trembling beneath his arm and pulled him closer. Maybe a showdown with the Minister of Magic was more than the boy could handle.<p>

"Are you alright?"

Harry looked up at him, his cheeks still deliciously red and his eyes alight with fury. Ah, alright, not fear then. Obviously, the boy took any slander against Severus personally.

"They're idiots," Harry said, and Severus saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.

"Cowards! They don't have half the guts you- If they knew what you did for the order, how important and dangerous you work was- They should be thanking you! Not accusing you of- of-"

Severus couldn't help but smile at his indignant defence. "You might want to control your temper, Harry. Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment." Harry shivered under his arm as he whispered in his ear.

"Come on, let's sit." He led them to a vacant couch again. The boy was still fuming and glaring at the crowd. Severus pulled him back lightly, coaxing him against the back rest. Harry resisted, as taut as a bowstring.

"Harry," Severus tried using his voice on him. The one he had used to seduce people in the past. Harry turned around and Severus looked him full in the eyes for moment. Merlin, he was beautiful. And attractive. Severus felt his groin tighten.

"Calm down," he ordered and Harry blinked, as though waking up. He nodded and leaned against Severus.

"Now, tell me-" Severus murmured into Harry's hair, creating the illusion of intimacy while he scanned the dance floor. Ah yes, there. The circling vultures, whispering among themselves, thinking he hadn't noticed.

"Who is Arthur Tanner?" He felt Harry stiffen again.

"Trains the aurors, apparently," Harry said shortly, shifting uncomfortably. "Talked to me on my way here."

"And he is very attractive, I presume?"

Harry shrugged and Severus felt a jealous twinge in his guts. They hadn't tried to seduce him, only Harry. Probably knew he wouldn't go for it. He had to much too lose, after all. But if they took Harry from him he'd kill them all.

"I don't care. He didn't do it because it was me. He did it because they told him to. Besides, I'm already married."

Silently, Severus agreed. He pulled Harry closer to his side and Harry relaxed. Who knew the boy was such a good actor. Severus allowed him the improper display of affection until he was sure he had calmed down enough. And until he had no other excuse to continue holding him.

"Come on, Harry," he murmured into the boy's hair. "Let's go and get something more to drink, on Ministry costs."

Just as they stood, the lights dimmed and focused on the stage where the musicians had been playing. Rufus Scrimgeour was clambering onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to our New Year's Ball! I'm honoured that all of you have graced me with your presence!" Polite applause from his croonies. Severus crossed his arms.

"Even in this difficult times, it would be unwise to forget the joys of living. As any veteran can tell you, keeping up the morales is a vital task in any campaign. So I bid you to enjoy the music and drink and greet the New Year as it deserves!" Applause again, and the cripple hobbled off the stage. The lights stayed dim, and the musicians strung up their instruments again, louder now. Severus watched many couples start rotating on the floor.

Severus glanced down at Harry, who was already looking up at him, an unfathomable expression in his eyes. It was curious. More often than not the boy was so easy to read, every emotion just there, for everyone to see and play on. And at times like this, Severus could only wildly guess what the boy was thinking. Harry intrigued him. A puzzle he desperately wanted to solve, before someone else did.

"Would you like to dance?"

Harry gifted him with an embarrassed smile and Severus felt lightness spread through his chest. "If you're willing to risk it."

Severus led the boy out on the floor, then gently took his right hand in his, resting his other on the small of his back. Just there, low enough to signify intimacy, but not so low as to appear obscene and cause Harry discomfort. Harry rested his own arm atop Severus' and leaned in, resting his head against Snape's chest. He could feel the boy's breath though his shirt and Merlin, this was wonderful. Snape rested his head lightly on Harry's, rotating to the slow, throbbing music and soothing voice of the male lead singer.

Severus exhaled, letting his breathe ghost over the boy's ear. He smirked to himself as Harry shuddered against him. This really was too easy for a spy as accomplished as he was. Bodily seduction was all a matter of practice and observation. But then, he had been allowing himself this harmless pleasure for some time. Making the boy uncomfortable had become his favourite hobby, even more delightful than giving stuck-up Gryffindors detention.

Merlin, had the boy used cologne? Snape sniffed. Yes, definitely. A deep, earthy smell, smoky and warm. Severus thoughts wandered to the night they had spent in each other's arms. It had been the first time ever he had held someone, or been held, without any sex occurring. The thought of the lithe young body pressed against him then did nothing to stymie his arousal now-

He felt Harry go completely rigid in his arms. Severus looked down in alarm.

"Harry?" The boy's face was pale in anger. "What is it?" They were in danger, they had to get out of here, where was Dumbledore, if they could make it to the exit and apparate-

"Umbridge," Harry hissed, almost like he did when he spoke Parseltongue. He gestured discreetly and Snape wheeled around. Ah yes, the toad herself, dressed in the ugliest pink dress Severus ever had the misfortune to cast his gaze upon. She hadn't noticed them yet, chatting to some of her colleagues. And there was a horrid bow in her hair, as usual. Snape felt his lip curl in disgust. He turned back to Harry, who was still glaring at her, loathing clear in his eyes.

"Let's move," Severus said, pulling Harry deeper into the throng on the floor and out of her line of sight. Harry still looked pale and upset, the music weaving around them.

"Harry?" Severus made a bold move and touched the boy's face, tilting it up so that he was forced to meet his eyes. For a moment, the face was still pinched, then it relaxed and the smile that Severus had come to long for ghosted over Harry's face. Severus found himself smiling in return and his hand curled around Harry's face, somehow of it's own accord. To his surprise, Harry's smile widened. He stroked his thumb across Harry's cheek and the boy closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch. Severus held his breath, overwhelmed by the moment.

He pulled the boy closer again, and they resumed their dance. Snape stopped thinking. The booze in his stomach, the music around him and Harry in his arms were the only things important right now. The boy's arms snuck around his waist and pulled them even closer. Severus thought his knees might just buckle when the boy pressed against him. Harry smelt so good and gods, Severus felt such a tenderness flood him that almost too painful to bear-

Harry stirred and Severus relaxed his grip. The boy tilted his head up. Severus looked at him, wanting to ask what was wrong, but was distracted by the expression on Harry's face. It was such a gentle longing that all thoughts simply vanished from Severus' mind, as though they had never been there. Harry tilted his face further up and Severus met him halfway without hesitation.

Their kiss was chaste, at first, then Harry pushed up further, mashing his lips stronger against Severus'. Severus growled, slipping a hand into the boy's hair and sucked at the boy's lower lip. He was rewarded with a hushed gasp that was lost in the music. Suddenly, a moist pressure was tonguing his lips and Snape opened his mouth eagerly, accepting everything the boy had to offer. He lost himself in the sensation of tasting Harry, feeling him writhe in his arms, straining towards him, towards Severus- And he didn't care this was all just a farce, he didn't care the kiss was bordering on obscene and he certainly didn't care the headmaster was out there somewhere, watching-

All that mattered was that he was being kissed by Harry Potter, who was making small noises in the back of his throat and was currently grasping the back of Snape's head, guiding him lower.

Finally Harry pulled back -not even the Dark Lord himself could have convinced Severus to do so- gasping for air. He looked marvellous- cheeks flushed and lips swollen, pupils so wide that barely any green showed. And when a shy smile stretched across his face, Snape couldn't help but smile back, the horrible feeling of vulnerability back in his chest.

Harry leaned back in, but only embraced Snape again and Severus hugged him back. This, now, was his. And no one would take it from him. The song ended and Harry kissed him again. Severus felt giddy, fighting to keep a foolish smile off his face. He was Severus Snape, most accomplished spy of all times, Potions Master and bane of all students! He would not run around looking as though hit by a cheering charm.

"Come on!" Harry took his hand and pulled him away towards the bar again. Their fingers interwined and somehow, this gesture felt even more intimate than their previous kisses. Harry snagged two glasses of champagne and pointed to the big clock which had been charmed upon the wall.

"One minute to midnight!" The boy's eyes were sparkling and happy. Severus took the glass from him, stealing a quick kiss. If this was a spell to be broken by midnight, he wasn't going to hold back.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven-" The whole crowd chanted in unison, then a batch of fireworks went off and people all around him were yelling and congratulating each other on having survived yet another year, which for some, such as Longbottom or Harry, was indeed an achievement. Then Harry was kissing him again, all tongues and enthusiasm and Severus thought he had never been happier in his life.

Harry pulled back and laughed in exhilaration. "Happy New Year, Severus!" He downed his champagne in one go, then made a face. Severus laughed.

"Happy New Year, Harry." They watched the fireworks whizz and buzz, sparkling and loud. Or rather, Harry watched, while Severus watched Harry. By the Gods. He'd die for him. Right here, right now.

Harry pulled him back onto the dance floor, where they kissed and laughed, while Harry completely and obnoxiously ignored people who were trying to congratulate him. Snape smirked, a feeling of deep satisfaction curling in his stomach. Tonight, Harry was his and his alone.

"That's Arthur Tanner, by the way," Harry said at some point, hinting the direction. Snape saw the tall, blond man. A perfect Adonis, wonderful body, gorgeous lips and blue eyes which were watching him haughtily. Snape felt a wave possessive jealousy drown him; he glared at Arthur until he looked away, then kissed Harry roughly, until the boy was panting and rutting against his leg.

Harry traced the necklace hanging from his neck as they sat on a settee to rest. "I like that you're wearing this," he said dreamily. It was getting late, they should be heading home soon. He had never planned to stay this long, but now he found he didn't want to leave.

"You're whole attire was picked out by me," Snape pointed out, then kissed Harry's head, which rested on his shoulder. Harry mumbled something, then shifted into a more comfortable position. Severus glanced down at him and realized the boy was on the verge of falling asleep. Severus heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"Come on," he said resignedly, rousing Harry. "It's time to go." And thus the evening ended. He looked around for Dumbledore, never letting go of a bleary-eyed Harry's hand, but the headmaster was nowhere to be seen. Finally, they made there way out of the ballroom and into the apparition chamber. Harry smiled at him and buried his face against Severus' chest. Snape discreetly activated his portkey ring, and they were whisked away.

Darkness met them, as well as the cool air of their bedroom. Severus' felt Harry shiver against him. Severus clenched his arms around him, inhaling Harry's scent one last time, willing himself to remember this night always. Then he loosened his hold on Harry, who looked up at him dreamily.

"Harry-" Severus began, but Harry effectively silenced him with a kiss. Grasping for the opportunity to believe just a bit longer, he grabbed the front of Harry's robes and pulled him closer, opening his mouth for Harry. The young man ground himself against him and when he broke away, all traces of weariness were gone from him gaze.

Harry's eyes flickered across Severus' face, who became painfully aware that his usual mask was absent. Right now, nothing was fake. Every desire, need and emotion on his face was genuine. Severus watched as Harry harvested them all, baring his soul in the process. Harry's eyes widened and he gave a low keen. He attached himself to Severus mouth again, then moved on, kissing his jawline, his neck. He nipped at Severus neck, just below his ear and Severus gasped involuntarily. Harry tasted his skin, his hands pulling Severus shirt out of his shorts.

Snape gasped as Harry's hands made contact with the skin on his belly and shuddered as they roamed across his ribs, his chest, his back-

"Harry-" He whispered hoarsely, one last try to dissuade him from something he might regret, even though Severus wanted nothing more than to just rip Harry's clothes off and-

"Want you," Harry breathed against his ear before licking it and something within Severus broke.

Tomorrow- he could live with tomorrow, with regret and rejection, with pain and humiliation, as long as he had tonight. He shoved Harry's coat off roughly, attacking Harry's mouth with a passion that startled them both. He roughly pulled at Harry's shirt, not caring if he ripped it. He almost moaned in relief when the man's torso was finally bare. He shoved Harry towards the bed, clawing at his back, biting his shoulders lightly until the tipped over. He felt Harry's breath rush out of him as he fell on top of his husband. They kissed again, hungrily, then Snape started kissing Harry's chest, fumbling with the young man's belt. His hands were shaking, but fortunately, Harry's hands knocked his away and quickly dispersed of the belt. Severus used the moment to disrobe, shrugging his coat and shirt off.

Harry's hands stilled as he looked at Severus, who was too far gone to be embarrassed. He met Harry's gaze, desire and lust pumping through him as the young man took a few moments to take in his sight. Harry pulled himself up and licked the chain still adorning Severus neck and chest. Severus shuddered, vowing to never take it off again. Then he rid himself of his belt and trousers. Once he was naked, he pulled off Harry's clothes in a swift movement, even taking the time to pull his socks off.

Then, suddenly, this was it and the next movement brought both of their skins in contact and he felt Harry's moan as much as his own. He covered Harry, grinding against him and it felt so good- he mapped Harry's body, kissing every inch of him. As he moved downwards slowly, his frantic passion calmed somewhat and he took his time, caressing each mole, each tender spot with all the attention it deserved. Harry's hands were on his body, learning him, marking him and urging him on. Finally, he reached Harry's straining prick, which was already oozing precome. Severus glanced up at Harry, removing his hair from his face.

Harry was flushed, breathing heavily and was watching him with wide, hungry eyes. Severus held his gaze, then licked in one, long sensuous stroke of his tongue. Harry threw back his head and groaned, the sound alone enough to send Severus' back into the firey haze and engulf Harry. Each lick, each stroke and each time Harry's cock struck the back of his throat, Harry gasped, whimpered and moaned. Severus felt Harry's balls contract, then his mouth was filled with Harry's bitter release. Harry pumped into his mouth, crying out and burying his hands in Severus' hair, holding on, not pushing down. Severus rode him out, waiting and swallowing until Harry's body went slack beneath his hands. He released Harry, licking him clean and pressing gentle kisses onto his inner thighs.

Snape crawled back up, his cramped legs screaming in relief as blood shot back into them. Harry gazed at him, slightly unfocused. He grabbed for Severus and clumsily pulled him close, kissing Snape deeply, as though eager to taste himself within Severus. The idea caused Snape's full prick to twitch and he pressed it against Harry's abdomen.

Then, the world flipped and suddenly, Severus found himself on his back, Harry straddling him, but not touching his erection. Harry's hands were stroking through his hair as he towered above him and Harry was looking at him with such intensity that Severus forgot how to breathe.

"My turn," Harry's rasped, his voice rough. He kissed Severus, nipping his ears until Severus could no longer control the way his own body arched up from the bed. Every touch of Harry's tongue to his neck caused sparks of energy to run right to his spine, completely omitting the brain. His whole body was being worshipped: Harry took his time, playing with his nipples, sucking and licking each of Severus' fingers before tonguing his navel- Severus was dying, he had to be, because nothing, ever, had felt this intense before-

He moaned, a primal, senseless sound as Harry finally took him into his mouth, hot and wet, sliding, circling, while the pressure in his balls increased-

His own climax was there before he realized it and he convulsed so hard that it hurt. Harry stroked him, holding still until the last of the tremors faded. He was barely aware of the fact that

* * *

><p>Harry somehow pulled the covers out from under them, then tucked both of them up. He only recalled pulling the man close to his chest, then perfect darkness.<p>

**For once, I have something to say: The scene in the beginning of this chapter, when Harry realises his feelings for Severus is actually based on an experience from my own life. So before you proclaim it too cheesy, let me say that it's actually very possible to feel that way. (And this, coming from me, is saying something, since I am the type person who would not necessarily describe sex as meaningful and magical, but most definitely as randy, smelly, sticky and really quite hilarious). Though in all honesty, I'm not sure I did the emotions one feels in such a situation justice. Do at least some of you recognize the feeling I'm trying to describe?**

**On a different note: I'm looking for a beta! Someone to help me out with typos, missing words, the occasional error in grammar and some input on the plot. And, most importantly, to avoid such horrendous and blindingly obvious mistakes as the one I have made in Chapter 1. Any takers?**

**Cheers and enjoy!**


	10. Chapter 10

"Harry?"

Harry groaned, and buried his head further into the pillow. "Harry!"

Whatever it was, Ron could sort it out alone, Harry thought dimly, and tried to turn around. Then he realized he was held in place and couldn't.

"Harry!" Ron sounded downright alarmed now. Whatever it was, Harry thought grimly as he surfaced from his sleep, it better be good. He opened his eyes and stared at the wrong side of the room. There was a bang and he started. Next to him, the still body erupted into action, the restraints around Harry disappearing as Severus jumped, hand already groping for his wand. He glanced at the door. Ron stood halfway in the bedroom, and as Harry watched, his face turned from normal to pale to beet red. His mouth hung open as Severus finally pointed a wand at him.

"Weasley!" Snape thundered, eyes shooting sparks with fury. Ron quailed and started stuttering. Harry realized they were both naked and reflexively pulled up the covers.

"Out!" Ron fled, slamming the door behind him in terror. Snape lowered his wand and was breathing heavily, his hair in complete disarray. Harry pulled the covers even higher.

"I was supposed to go back to Grimmauld Place last night." Guilt pooled in his stomach, then Harry remembered exactly why he hadn't gone back. Heat crept up his face and neck and he shot a covert glance at Severus. Snape was still glaring at the door, exceptionally sour-faced. Harry watched as struggled out of bed, noticing red lines on Snape's back. His blush intensified when Harry realised they were scratch marks, and he had put them there. Without another backward glance, Snape strode towards the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Harry exhaled and flopped back onto the bed.

Holy shit.

He stared at the canopy. The sheets around him still smelled like sweat and musk. He had had sex with Snape. He had given Snape a god-damn blowjob. And Snape had sucked him off, as well. And they had danced and the feast and they had kissed and it had felt so good and the skin around Snape's eyes had crinkled so beautifully when he smiled at Harry and-

_Are you alright?_

Harry jerked, ripped from his carousel of thoughts. Leila was sitting on his bedside table, the end of her tail flicking to and fro in concern.

"I'm- not sure," Harry admitted. Oh God, and Ron had caught them in bed! So stupid, he had completely forgotten he had supposed to return-

Leila's tongue flicked out and tasted the air. _Why are you upset?_

"We had sex," Harry said bluntly. Well, not technically, but now was not the time for splitting hairs!

_I noticed. _Leila's voice sounded amused, in a dry sort of way. _You humans are very messy creatures. _Harry swore he could see her snout crinkle in disgust as she tasted the air again.

"Thanks," he answered sarcastically.

_What's the problem then? You've wanted each other for ages. I was waiting for it to happen. _

"We-" Harry paused. There was no arguing with a snake who claimed to smell the pheromones in the air. If she said they had smelled of lust, then they had smelled of lust.

"Maybe I did," he admitted. "But- I don't think he did. We both had quite a lot to drink yesterday."

_Nonsense! _Leila hissed derisively. _He wanted you as much as you wanted him!_

"Fine!" Harry shot back, a ugly feeling in his chest. "So he thought I'm hot and shaggable! But I-" He stopped, something inside his chest _twisting_.

_Yes? _Leila prompted him.

"I've got to tell the Weasley's I'm fine." Harry stood abruptly, striding to the closet. He flung on some spare clothes, wincing as the rubbed against tender spots. He would shower at Grimmauld Place. He scooped Leila up and headed for the fireplace.

As he stumbled into the sitting room, Mrs Weasley rose in surprise from the couch.

"Harry, dear!" She helped Harry brush soot of his robes. "There you are, we were worried about you!" Behind her, Harry saw Ron, rising awkwardly, his face red.

"Er, sorry," Harry said, at loss at what to say. "We, I mean, it was really late last night and-"

To his utter mortification, a faint pink blush covered Molly Weasley's cheeks. "Yes, I'm sure, the two of you must have been very tired-" Her voice faded and she avoided looking him in the eye, brushing his robe again. He threw an accusing look at Ron, who shook his head forcefully and jerked his head towards the hallway.

Harry followed him out. "I didn't tell her!" Ron exploded as soon as his bedroom door shut behind them. "I swear, I just said you were having a lie in, and she must have figured it out, I dunno, but I swear, Harry, I didn't tell her you and Snape-" Ron turned crimson again, ears and all.

Harry slopped down on Ron's bed, cradling his head in his hands. He noticed he could still smell Snape on himself and quickly moved the hand from his face to his hair.

"Harry?" Ron asked timidly and Harry felt the bed dip beside him. "Are you alright?"

Harry shook his head in silence, not really knowing how to explain. His skin was still tender. As though Snape's hands had left some kind of awareness behind, of what it felt to have him caress him, kiss him-

"Harry? Did Snape- Did he do something you didn't want?"

"No!" Harry snapped out of it, gazing at Ron in horror. "Gods, Ron, no! Nothing like that!"

"Okay! Alright, just checking!" Ron held up his hands in apology and Harry resumed staring at the floor between his feet.

"So..." Ron sounded timid, as though unsure how to proceed. "Why are you upset?"

Harry shrugged.

"I mean, you shagged, right? That's it, just a shag?"

Harry's hand clenched in his own hair. Somehow, the pain helped the bitterness in his throat.

"Yeah," Harry said flatly. "Right, just a shag. That's it."

Ron stayed silent for a moment and Harry swallowed convulsively, willing the block in his throat to go away. They sat there in silence, fidgeting from time to time. Leila stirred in his robes.

"Harry?" Ron finally broke the silence. Harry tilted his head lightly.

"It wasn't just a shag, right?"

Harry shook his head in silence and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay. Cool." Harry could all but hear the gears in Ron's head turning. Normally, Hermione handled this kind of stuff between them.

"Uhm, you want to talk about it?" Ron sounded so unwilling that Harry snorted a laugh.

"No, thanks, Ron," he said, finally looking at his friend. Ron looked relieved.

"I'm just gonna grab a shower. Meet you downstairs, alright?" Ron nodded and stood up. He clapped Harry on the shoulder, then hurried from the room.

* * *

><p>Snape opened the door and strode into the bedroom, glare in place and head held high. It was empty, the bed still ruffled and unmade. He stuck his head out into the sitting room, listening. Silence. He let his shoulders slump and his scowl fade. So Harry had already left.<p>

Severus stalked over to the armchairs and slumped down, staring at the embers.

Last night- last night had been a mistake. Oh, it had been wonderful, bitterly so, and left him craving more. Snape knew it wouldn't turn out to his benefit. Harry was too young to know what he desired in life. The memory of Harry's husky voice whispering _Want you _into his ear made the ache in his chest throb. The boy probably didn't even know if he was gay, for Merlin's sake!

A quick fuck on the side, he could deal with. Comfort from a comrade in arms, an associate in this bloody war, that was acceptable. But this thing with Harry, his unnatural obsession with the boy- the man- No. Severus was too involved and he knew it. This was domestic and complicated. Severus wondered wherever it was too early in the day to have a drink.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore strode cheerfully into the quarters, not awaiting a reply. Severus closed his eyes and groaned silently.

"Headmaster."

"Good to see you up so early. I wasn't sure when you came home last night. I myself retired quite early. After all, I am not as young as I once was." Severus shot him a scowl. Of course then man had to be smiling indulgently at him.

"No doubt you enjoyed the show previous to your departure." Severus was in no mood to beat around the bush.

"Why, yes, the musicians this year were marvellous, were they not? Quite a jig they gave us last night." Severus snorted and looked accusingly at the Headmaster, who had the nerve to wink at him.

"Of course, if you are referring to the rather- ah, passionate expressions of affection between Harry and yourself-"

"Yes," Severus curtly interrupted him and he would be _damned _if he blushed now!

"Ah, well, yes, I agree that your actions might have caused quite a spectacle," Dumbledore seemed intent on retaining his good mood.

"At this point, it can only serve our cause," Snape remarked, trying to keep his voice level and bland. He was quite proud when he succeeded.

"Very true, very true," Dumbledore happily lit the fire, engulfing them both in warmth. "So is Harry still sleeping in?"

Severus fidgeted. "No, he has returned to Grimmauld Place. Mr Weasley was sent to retrieve him this morning when Potter failed to return last night." Not that he had been intent on sending him away.

"Oh, dear me," Dumbledore chuckled. "I hope Mr Weasley didn't get more than he bargained for."

"Excuse me?" Severus felt his back go rigid as he glared at his employer, who had the cheek to actually wink at him again.

"Come now, Severus, from the look of Harry's face last night I hardly believe he would have let turn him down."

Severus gaped at Dumbledore. This invasion of his privacy was unparalleled and he could feel his indignation temporarily clog his airways.

"Not that you seemed all too disinclined," Dumbledore innocently continued. Severus choked around his rage and finally found his voice.

"Are you asking for details?" He spat, clenching his hands around the armrests. "Or is it enough for you to know that Potter and I engaged in sexual acts last night?" He felt the heat of anger rise on his face. Bad enough that it had happened in the first place, now he had to let himself be ridiculed about it!

"Dear boy, I hardly think that was a secret," Dumbledore had the nerve to chuckle again. "You are, after all, a married couple."

"Need I remind you, Albus, that this whole marriage is a sham, devised solely for my protection,"Severus hissed. "I refuse to pay back my debt in sexual favours."

"Severus!" The Headmaster looked shocked at the very suggestion. "Do you honestly believe that was Harry's motivation? After spending so much time with him, I honestly hoped you might have dropped some of your assumptions. Am I that mistaken?"

Snape clenched his jaw and glared at the fireplace. He wanted to say 'yes', but somehow, the word would not honestly make it's way past his lips.

"You realize then, of course, that Harry's actions towards you root solely from his affections to you?" Dumbledore asked quietly, blue eyes surveying him over the rims of his spectacles.

"Why are you here, Albus?" Maybe the old man would leave him in peace if he finished his business here.

"To prevent you from doing something foolish, of course," Dumbledore answered promptly, the infuriating smile back again. "And to ask you to accompany me to breakfast. Would you like to join me?"

Snape grunted, but regretfully couldn't think of a good enough reason to refuse the Headmaster. Except that he resented his interference with his private life and wanted some solace, but who counted that?

"Truly, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, his tone sombre again. "Please, do not do Harry the injustice of accusing him wrongly. I will only hurt you both."

Severus decided not to dignify that plea with a comment.

* * *

><p>Dinner was an awkward affair, but Harry was grateful that no one broached the subject of Snape and him. Ron went out of his way to engage Harry in inconsequential chatter and Harry let himself be roped in quite willingly. Hermione arrived that evening, her nose peeling from the alpine sun. She hugged Harry first, then lingered in Ron's embrace. Harry excused himself and left the two to themselves. Also, he had no desire to explain what had happened to Hermione, leaving that grateful task to Ron.<p>

Harry was sitting in front of the fireplace, reading a book he had borrowed from Snape's personal library when they finally emerged again. One glance at Hermione's pink, yet calculating face told Harry Ron had already filled her in.

He smiled crookedly at his friends as they sat themselves opposite him on the couch.

"How was your holiday, Harry?" She fidgeted nervously and Harry simply looked at her.

"Fine." Hermione nodded, glancing at Ron sideways.

"I've brought you my notes-" She produced a pack of parchments. "I've talked to Mr Weasley, he chatted up one of the witches at the Ministry- about your interview." She shoved the stack at Harry, who reluctantly put his book away.

All of the parchment was filled with Hermione's neat little handwriting. He rifled through them briefly. He was surprised to see that he could answer a fair few without problems- Snape's favourite food, drink, toothbrush colour, side of the bed he slept on- they were living together, after all.

"His favourite beverage?" Harry glanced up at Ron and Hermione. "No idea. Scotch, maybe? Or pumpkin juice?"

Ron looked doubtful. "I can't imagine Snape drinking something harmless as pumpkin juice. Black tea, maybe? Bitter, without sugar or milk." Hermione shot him a disapproving look before turning to Harry.

"Well, guessing is no use, is it? The interview is in two days, you have to get the answers straight till then! Go and ask him, Harry!" She gestured at the fireplace.

"No!" Harry said indignantly. "I'm not going back there!"

She shot him an exasperated look. "Harry, you live there."

"It's the holidays!"

"Harry, I know you and Professor Snape-" she turned pink again and hastily continued, "But you can't avoid going back there for ever!"

"No, but I can today!"

"Harry-"

"Let it go, Hermione," Ron interrupted, putting a placating hand on her thigh. Harry zeroed in on the hand. Severus had placed his hand on Harry's thigh yesterday-

"Harry will go tomorrow, right, Harry? Let them cool down today." Hearing Ron being so reasonable was certainly a change and caused both Harry and Hermione to stare at him until he started fidgeting.

"What?"

"When did you grow up all of a sudden?" Hermione asked abruptly, obviously put off.

Ron shrugged and blushed slightly. "It's all in the book," he mumbled, and Harry remembered seeing a certain book lying around in Ron's room.

"What book?" Hermione snapped. "Oh, that reminds me- Harry, have you read my Christmas present yet?"

Harry felt his neck heat up. "Yeah, yeah, I have." Now, Hermione was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Er-" Harry felt his face heat up, as well. "It's- it's interesting. Thanks," he added hastily.

"Leave the questions, Harry," Ron requested, and pulled him up. "Let's go grab something to eat, Mum's baking muffins."

* * *

><p>"I hate Potions," Ron groused, shoving his parchment aside in frustration. "Once I'm an auror, I'll just stock up my bathroom cabinet with antidotes and bezoars, so I won't have to brew a single one of these!" He waved his hands over the books and lists of antidotes they were working with.<p>

"You'll better be a rich auror then," Hermione said mildly, turning another page. Her essay was almost finished and Harry stole a hopeful look at it. "These potions are really expensive."

"I'll work hard," Ron grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Hermione snorted derisively.

"I'll believe that when I see it!"

Harry turned a page, his eyes burning. None of this made sense- while ashwinder scales seemed to be a perfectly good ingredient in an antidote for digestive cramping, it seemed to prove lethal in asthmatic potions, despite the ingredients being all but similar. Obviously, there had to be a difference, but for the love of him Harry couldn't figure out what.

"Hermione-" Harry started, but the fire interrupted his question. It's flames flared green and spit out a black figure. Snape brushed the soot of his robes while Harry gaped.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione squealed and Ron turned brick red.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger." Snape nodded curtly at them, then turned to Harry. "Potter." Harry insides churned.

"Hello."

Snape glanced at their work and sneered. "The annual antidote essay, I see."

"You know what this is about?" Ron asked and Snape turned his derisive expression on him.

"Professor Slughorn has taken over my curriculum. Naturally I know what you assignment is about."

For a moment, Ron looked hopeful. "Well, maybe you could-"

"If you think for one moment, Weasley, that would aid your diminutive intellect in the task of avoiding further-"

"I'll make myself some tea." Harry stood up abruptly and fled into the kitchen. He tried very hard not listen to the voices still sounding from the sitting room and fiddled with the kettle. As he was waiting for the water to boil, he heard footsteps behind him. He threw a glance over his shoulder and saw Snape approaching.

"Would you like some tea?" For a moment, Harry thought Snape would belittle him, but then he visibly bit something back. "Yes, please."

Harry nodded and infused the tea. He put both cups on the table and sat down, looking expectantly at Snape. Only to find he couldn't hold his gaze and looked at his tea.

He heard Snape sit down opposite him and clear his throat uneasily. There was a moment of silence.

"Potter-"

Harry felt a surge of anger. "Oh, Potter, am I?" He glared at Snape, who bared his teeth back at him. But then, to Harry's surprise, he checked himself and the snarl faded.

"Harry." He took a deep breath, which seemed to calm him as much as Harry. "Concerning last night- I want to make sure you understand I will not demand anything of you."

Harry stared, caught off guard. "What?" Then he blinked. "Right. That's not- I wasn't thinking you would."

Snape nodded, expression uncharacteristically uneasy, but at least they were looking at each other now.

"Would you like to, though?" Harry blurted out and immediately blushed.

Snape stared at him, incredulous anger glittering in his eyes. "I am not a toy to be used for your amusement, Potter," Severus growled, baring his teeth again. "If you can't contain your carnal needs, then I'm afraid you will have to _satisfy _yourself _elsewhere._" He spit the words in Harry's face, who recoiled.

"That's not what I meant!" Harry hissed back. "What do you think I- You're- What about the Ball yesterday?"

"What about it?," Snape said coolly, his face wiped blank.

"That was- something." Harry said forcefully, painfully aware of how inadequate his words were. He ached to simply say something that _mattered. _"That _meant_ something. That was real, you twit!"

Belatedly, he thought insulting Snape might not have been the smartest move he had ever made. Indeed, Snape's face was slowly acquiring a pink tinge.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "That didn't come out right." Snape still looked at the verge of exploding. "What I'm trying to say is- I'm not- playing with you or anything. I just- I like you," Harry lamely told the table.

There. He had said it. Harry raised his head. Severus was watching with suspicion on his face. After a moment of studying Harry's features, the suspicion made way for wary confusion and something akin to resignation.

"I am not a toy, Potter."

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "I know that. Believe me, I'm really not messing around with you. At least, I don't want to. I'm not that stupid."

Snape continued glaring at him. Quickly, Harry said, "I really don't get the potions assignment, by the way. What's so special about ashwinder scales?"

* * *

><p>Harry fidgeted with his robes, pulling his collar loose. Mrs Weasley had insisted he wore his best robes and Harry gave in. He was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the atrium of the Office of Marital Affairs. It was a simple sitting space, not unlike the waiting room in a muggle doctor's office he had visited with his aunt. Next to him, Severus was sitting on another uncomfortable chair. Severus huffed irritably and roughly yanked at Harry's collar to straighten it. Harry shot him a dark look. Snape sneered back. So far, so normal.<p>

"Mr Potter," a witch poked her head out, looking around for him. Harry hastily stood, flattening his hair nervously. "Yeah?"

The witch smiled smiled reassuringly at him. "In here, please." Harry looked at Snape, who sent him a twisted smile which made Harry think he looked ill, though it was probably meant to be reassuring. Harry returned the smile faintly.

The Ministry lady was about Mr Weasley's age and had plain brown hair wound in a neat bound. She had a general air of quietness that made Harry inclined to think that if she didn't say anything, one might even forget she's there.

The witch gestured to Harry to sit on a wooden chair across from her desk, which was littered with parchment and the occasional owl feather. She smiled reassuringly and Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Umbridge.

"Hello Mr Potter, my name is Lisa Smithens. I'm an employee of the Office for Marital Affairs, OMA for short. I'll be asking you a few questions today regarding your union. Do you know why you're here?"

Harry kept his jaw from falling open with difficulty. Then he realised he was supposed to answer. "Because some people don't believe my marriage is real?" He asked, trying not to sound grouchy.

"Yes, there have been some suspicions regarding the validity of your marriage. Can you tell me something about how you two met?"

"Well, we saw each other first when I came to Hogwarts," Harry said dryly, "but I only started fancying him about a year ago, in my fifth year."

"Is that when you started you relationship?"

"No, I had a crush on him for a really long time, months. We only started seeing each other like that after last term ended."

"Can you tell me the date?"

"Uh-" Harry racked his brain for the time-frame he and Severus had constructed. "It was the end of July, I think."

"Mhm-" The witch made a mark on her piece of parchment. "What wood is your husbands wand made of?"

"Ebony."

"Does he sleep on the left or the right side of the bed?"

"The left."

"What time does he get up in the mornings?"

"Er- we get up together, actually. So, about half past six."

"Who showers first in the morning?"

Harry blushed. "He showers in the evening. I shower in the morning."

"What brand is his shampoo?" For a moment, Harry wondered wherever the witch had attended Hogwarts at some point and was trying to make a point.

"He uses Fellowsea's, I think." The witch shot him a dubious look. "Have you had relations before your marriage?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since the beginning of the summer holidays."

"Does your husband have any allergies?"

"Yes. He can't eat nuts."

"Regarding your financial issues, have any changes been made?" She looked at him over the top of her parchment.

"Er- yeah. I mean, our Gringotts vaults have been merged."

"So you both have full access to your spouses gold?"

"Yes." Another mark on the sheet. Harry twitched uncomfortably. He had not been aware of that fact until Snape had kindly informed him.

"Can you validate this statement?"

"Prove it, you mean?" The witch nodded. "Yes, Severus has the documents with him. Shall I get-"

"No, no, that's alright, I'll talk to him in a minute."

After a few more mundane questions, the witch rifled through her papers and told Harry kindly to wait outside. As he passed a scowling Snape in the doorway, he smiled at him and let their hands brush. Snape stopped and looked down at him, his features softening. A sharp clearing of the throat from the Ministry lady made Harry break eye contact and shuffle out, relieved his part was over. After all, if anyone was going to bollocks this up, it would have been him. Snape had spent his adulthood deceiving greater wizards than this witch would ever be. Harry settled down in one of the chairs, which seemed much more comfortable all of the sudden.

The door opened once more, after quite a short time, too, Harry thought. A disgruntled looking Severus emerged, the witch trailing behind him, visibly flustered. Harry stood and approached Severus. Hoping he wouldn't get hexed for this, he leaned up and aimed a light kiss at Severus' lips. To his immense relief, Severus leaned down reflexively and responded in kind. The witch cleared her throat pointedly.

"Everything seems in order," she simpered, avoiding Snape's glare. "I will inform my superiors of my evaluation. I wish you both a wonderful life." She disappeared into her office, door falling closed behind her.

Harry chuckled. "What did you do to her?"

Snape snorted, and pulled him away. "Nothing lethal." Snape's grip on his arm shifted, slid lower and suddenly, he was clutching Harry's palm. Harry's skin tingled, so he twitched his hand and their fingers entwined, holding firmly. Harry smiled; there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Harry!" Mr Weasley had volunteered to escort them back to the gates of Hogwarts. He bounded towards them with a gait that reminded Harry strongly of Ron. He saw his eyes flicker to their joined hands and back up. "How did it go?"

"Fine," Harry said, relief settling in. It was over, no more balls, no more interrogations- they were going to leave them alone. Mr Weasley clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good, good, let's get you back to school, then."

When they appeared in front of the school gates, they were greeted by Hagrid, who escorted them back to the castle. Taking a silent, deep breath, Harry reached for Snape's hand again.  
>"Glad that went well," he said quietly, while Hagrid happily described the creatures he was currently breeding. From the sound of it, they were a cross-breed between rats and bowtruckles. Harry didn't even want to imagine the logistics of rats on sticks.<p>

"I would have thought you would be glad to be rid of me," Snape answered, equally low. Harry squeezed his fingers in a silent answer. "They won't get you," he vowed, a fierce protectiveness coursing through him. He consciously didn't say that Snape belonged to him.

Yet when Snape looked down at him and smirked, he had the feeling he knew what he was thinking, anyway. They said goodbye to Hagrid in the Entrance Hall (well, at least Harry did) and traipsed up the castle in silence. It was still two days until the first students would be arriving, and only a handful had stayed behind. They passed one lonely Hufflepuff fourth-year, who took one look at their joined hands and paled. Snape sneered at her, and she fled. Harry sighed. It would be all over the school the moment the other students arrived.

Harry's trunk had already arrived, Leila coiled atop of it. Harry greeted her warmly and she wound herself around his neck, weaving her head in his hair in a caress.

"I'll up to the Owlery for a bit. Visit Hedwig," Harry told Snape, after he unpacked his stuff. Snape was sitting in his office, working. He looked up as Harry approached him. "Watch out for Malfoy," Severus warned him, scowling. "He's lurking about the castle."

Harry nodded. Snape looked at him for a moment longer and Harry hesitated. He moved closer nonchalantly. Severus' gaze flickered, but he kept looking at Harry, his quill loose in his fingers. Harry raised his hand and gently traced Snape's cheekbone with his fingertips. He felt Snape's breath catch. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Severus' lips. The angle was different, but when Snape grabbed his head gently and adjusted it, it was perfect. Harry traced the tip of his tongue along Snape's bottom lip and was rewarded with a breathy sigh. Harry was flooded with joy- there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't in awe of the fact that he was being kissed by the man he loved. The kiss deepened until Harry pulled away slowly. He smiled down at Severus, positive that there was no way Severus could misread his expression. Severus, however, had a certain glazed look upon him as he licked his lips. Harry felt his prick grow warm.

"I'll-" his voice was weak and breathless. Harry quickly cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I'll see you at dinner, then."

Severus' face lost it's dreamy expression. "Don't get lost," he advised dryly, turning back to his notes. Harry smiled at the back of his head, and determinedly kept the skip out of his walk as he exited the office.

He made it all the around the corner before he let out a whoop and actually jumped a foot into the air. Leila hissed in surprise as he broke out into a run, taking three stairs at once. His cheeks were already aching, but he couldn't stop smiling. Any moment now, he would burst into song. As he entered the musty silence of the Owlery, Harry thought that any Patronus he conjured now could take down all the dementors of Azkaban and never falter. Because Severus Snape liked him.

* * *

><p>The door shut behind Harry and Snape let his head fall in his hands. He felt them shake. He took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, the fast staccato which pulsed against his eardrum.<p>

The boy, the man- Harry. He was doomed, doomed now. Just as he had been many years ago, when he first saw little Lily on the swing- he was had been doomed to be her friend till the end, even after she hadn't been his any more. And even now, if there was an afterlife, the first thing he would do was fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

And now- behind those green eyes, so alike hers, but so different- was a man, barely yet an adult, who held the whole of Severus' bare, beating, bleeding heart in his small hands.

Of course, he was also the centre, the very vortex of this bloody damned war. The war which had taken everyone he had ever loved from him. So it was only natural that the boy he was to fall in love with was in the eye of a storm centred around him. The Dark Lord himself wanted to kill Harry. Despair gripped Severus. How the boy had survived so far defied any kind of logic- and while Severus would lay down his own life without a second thought, he was woefully conscious about of how little use that would be.

And Dumbledore insisted his duty lie elsewhere. Where then, if not with that dratted boy? The students and the school, indeed.

He traced his lips absently with his quill, the sensitised flesh tingling deliciously. They would keep on fighting. Fight till the end, play this dangerous game until their side won or they died. He would stand by Harry even if it killed him. And in the meantime- there were more earthly pleasures to look forward to.

* * *

><p>Hedwig clicked her beak disapprovingly at Leila when she saw her, her amber eyes narrowed in jealousy. Harry stroked her feathered head soothingly. He offered her an owl treat, which mollified her. Grinning like a maniac, he told her all about his stay at the Burrow, talking in a low voice, enjoying the feel of the simple of his second friend ever.<p>

He sat on the window ledge, huddled in his cloak, and gazed out onto the lake. The freezing rain that was pelting down was making him already dread the next Quidditch practices. When the sky darkened even further, Harry realized it was probably high time for dinner. He hurriedly said goodbye to Hedwig and started the long trek to the Great Hall. The House tables had been forsaken in favour of a single, long one, at which the rest of the staff and students students were seated. Harry slipped in one of the remaining seats. He tried to covertly look at Severus, who was ignoring him. He was seemingly occupied with his pumpkin soup and aiming the occasional comment at Professor McGonagall, who sat on his right. Harry tried catching his eye, but was studiously ignored. He huffed into his stew and finished quickly. If that stubborn git wanted to be all _proper _in public, fine. He ripped a slice of bread in two before dunking it in his soup.

Harry left as soon as he was finished, smiling at Professor Flitwick. Snape looked at him and Harry gave him a nod, too. Severus dipped his head a fraction of an inch and Harry almost smiled. He left for their rooms, a plan forming in his head. Hopefully, Snape would be detained at dinner- Harry had some reading to do.

He was just taking a turn down the second floor- corridor which would take him to the right staircase, when he collided with someone who was hurrying in the opposite direction. He humphed in surprise and staggered backwards, only to find himself face to face with Malfoy. Immediately, his hand jumped to his wand. Malfoy glared at him, eyes on his hand. "Watch where you're going, Potter!"

Harry glared at him. "Why aren't you at dinner?"

Malfoy's smile turned haughty, though Harry thought it had quite the strained quality to it. "How is that any of your business, scarhead? Think you and the Dumble-fool own the castle?"

"At least I don't look like a walking corpse," Harry retorted. It was true- Malfoy was even paler than usual, the bags under his eyes prominent and dark. Even his hair, while still sleeked back, was less orderly than usual. "What's the matter, too scared at night to get enough beauty sleep? Or have you finally figured out joining Voldemort might not have been the best idea after all?"

Malfoy edged around him and Harry kept his back to the wall. "You will regret the day that filthy mudblood mother of yours ever saved you, Potter."

Harry snarled back. "We'll see about that, ferret."

With a rude gesture in Harry's direction, Malfoy disappeared around the corner. Harry listened to his receding footsteps before loosening his grip on his wand. He took a deep breath before continuing his way to their rooms. He was halfway there before he noticed that Malfoy had evaded his original question.

Harry was sitting at his desk, trying to memorise a particular paragraph when he heard the office door open. But still, more than an hour passed before he closed and put Hermione's Christmas gift aside, just as Snape walked through the second door.

"I had a run-in with Malfoy," Harry informed Snape from the desk, watching him coax the flames in the hearth higher. Severus' gaze immediately turned to Harry, who knew he was checking for injuries. "Do you know what he's up to?"

Snape took the poker in his hand and jabbed at a burning log. "What did he say to you?"

"Oh, the usual," Harry said in airy tone. "Threats and insults. It was him, on Halloween, you know that, right?"

"I suspect as much, yes," Severus said, straightening up and leaning against his armchair.

"Then you know he's up to something!" Harry said accusingly. He, Ron and Hermione had been right- and yet Malfoy was still here! "Why hasn't he been expelled yet?"

"Because the Headmaster wishes not to," Snape said evenly.

"But why?"

Harry was sick of this- everybody knew more than he did, yet it was him the wizarding world seemed to rely on to defeat Voldemort. Of course, no one had a practical suggestion of how exactly he should do that. Snape gaze him a long, searching look, before moving closer. He perched himself on the top of Harry's desk, who was momentarily distracted by the robes bunching around Severus' backside.

"This summer, shortly before my exposure, Draco has been given- a task, by the Dark Lord."

"What task?" Harry leaned forward eagerly.

"To kill the Headmaster."

"_What? _Kill _Dumbledore?" _Harry gaped. The idea itself was ludicrous, even in Dumbledore's weakened state.

"Yes. Thus the Halloween fiasco, though I suspect Draco had help with that."

"But- but- that's ridiculous! As if Malfoy ever could, with or without help! And why doesn't Dumbledore just chuck him out?"

"_Professor _Dumbledore," Snape barked at him, scowling. Harry barely contained the urge to roll his eyes at the ceiling. "And you are correct. Mr Malfoy is not expected to succeed. The Dark Lord is most displeased with Lucius Malfoy's performance at the Ministry last summer."

Harry frowned for a moment. Then it hit him. "He wants Malfoy to fail? And then punish him for it?" Severus clapped his hands slowly. "Very good, Potter. Nice to see that those failed attempts at Occlumency have at least educated you of the workings of the Dark Lord's mind."

Harry felt himself blush with furious embarrassment as he remembered those failed lessons. Guilt gnawed unpleasantly at his stomach. "So that's why Dumbledore- _Professor _Dumbledore-" he enunciated mockingly, "Won't expel him? Because Voldemort will kill him if he does?"

"Two correct assumptions in the span of ten minutes. Most impressive."

"Shut it, will you," Harry snapped, his neck furiously red again. He looked at his feet, mulling over this new information. "Do you know where Malfoy is always going to?"

Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean, Potter? Mr Malfoy has not been leaving the grounds unsupervised."

Unwilling to reveal his knowledge about the Marauder's Map and Malfoy's frequent absence from it, Harry opted for a half-truth. "I never see him around anymore, is all."

Severus' expression hadn't softened, so Harry hurriedly stood up. "I'm going to turn in." He hastily fled from the room.

When he emerged, freshly showered, deliberately only clad in pyjama bottoms, Snape was not yet in the bedroom. Harry grabbed a book from his nightstand, determined to wait up.

When Snape finally entered the bedroom, Harry pretended to keep on reading, yet his eyes were fixed on one spot of the page, ears straining to listen to all the sounds of Severus getting ready for bed. When bathroom door closed and the shower sounded, Harry put his book down and listened, anticipation coiling in his stomach. He thought again of the instructions in the book Hermione had given him. While he was fairly sure he could make sex enjoyable for a girl, he had only his own instincts to rely on when it came to men. Surely, a few pointers would not go amiss, especially if one had such a much more experienced lover. Though, of course, the only way to gain more hands-on experience was to practice. A lot. He felt a pleasant tensing in his belly and shifted. The shower stopped.

Severus emerged from the bathroom and Harry was surprised to see that he, too, was wearing only shorts. He let his gaze trail over Snape's bare thorax, over his flat belly and his slightly broader chest. When he reached Severus' face, he tried to smile invitingly.

Severus' expression softened slightly, then he cautiously approached the bed. "Harry," he said slowly, pointedly looking at Harry's face. Harry felt a twinge of worry at his serious tone. "I want to make sure that you understand I do not wish to pressure you into anything." He held up a hand as Harry opened his mouth in indignation. "I not want you to feel obligated to- be intimate with me. If you would prefer to never mention the incident on New Year's Eve again, I won't hold it against you."

"I want to" Harry said firmly, annoyed. "Do you?" He hadn't anticipated this much talking, before. Afterwards, perhaps.

The way Severus' eyes flickered down Harry's bare chest and lower body was answer enough. He leaned forwards and Snape slid fully onto the bed. They reached out and kissed. Harry felt his eyes shut as Severus' tongue flicked against his and the coiled tension in his belly unfurled, stretching deliciously and coursing through his whole body.

He lowered himself onto his bed and Severus trailed after him, steadying himself with a hand on his chest. Severus' hand was cold on his overheated skin, but it was warming quickly as it caressed his ribs, a thumb finding a nipple. Harry gave an appreciative purr- and Severus mouth left his. A lustful look later he busied himself with kissing Harry's neck and jawline. Harry closed his eyes, basking in the delightful sensations, his fingers stroking Severus' back, finger's trailing over the odd scar.

When Severus worked his way downwards, Harry watched in wonder as the dark-haired man kissed and licked at his nipple, his long fingers stroking Harry's skin. Joy filled his chest as he took in the focused expression on Severus' face, who was so very intent on giving him pleasure that he all but ignored his own. That wouldn't do. Harry slid his hands into the silky, wet strands and gently guided Snape back up, their mouths meeting again. The movement brought their chests together and Harry arched up into the heat the Potions Master was radiating. Severus hummed as Harry's mouth left his and instead moved towards his neck. When he trailed along his ear, however, Severus hissed and his whole body shuddered along Harry's. He felt Severus' erection hard and hot against his leg. He smiled as he gathered the hair out of the way and tongued Snape's ear gently, then lightly bit the shell. The resulting writhing seemed fully involuntary. Severus turned his head and caught Harry's mouth in a kiss again, just as Harry's wandering hands found Severus' bum and gave it a tentative squeeze through the cotton. Snape gave his lower lip an encouraging nip, so Harry slid his hands along the seam of the pants, his touch light and teasing. Only then did he slide them underneath, cupping Severus soft skin, covered in fine hair, so different from Ginny's. He massaged the buttocks and Severus slid onto him, his weight pushing Harry down into the mattress. Harry loved it, the feel of his lover constricting him, surrounding him. He groaned as Severus straightened up, straddling his hips and in effect bringing their groins closer together.

"Not to ruin the mood," Severus began, his eyes dark with lust and Harry was very conscious that he still had his hands cupped around Snape's arse, "but have you ever been with a man?"

Harry shook his head, giving the wonderful arse a light squeeze. "Only with girls. You're the first bloke," He said, willing himself not to blush. Snape nodded and Harry was grateful to see he was not put off. "Then you have never been-"

"No," Harry said quickly, and blushed despite his best efforts. "I mean, Ginny used to- er, finger me sometimes when she gave me a blowjob. It was nice, but we never did anything more. No toys or anything." He gulped. Snape smirked, but it looked just a shade off from a smile. He suddenly leaned back down, threading his hands into Harry's hair and turning his head.

"Well, Mr Potter," He breathed into Harry's ear, until it seemed there was nothing else in the world except the sound of Snape's voice and his hot breath against Harry's skin. "I am not feeling particularly patient tonight. I suggest I introduce you to the pleasure of bottoming on another occasion." He arched his arse into Harry's hands suggestively. "If your are up to the task," and then he ground down, pressing their groins together and Harry lifted up and _fuck, _this felt so good that it was only when Snape pulled back up again that Harry's brain registered what Snape had said.

"You, you want me to-" Harry gulped, the idea so erotic that his prick was painfully hard by now.

"Have I not been clear enough? Very well, Harry, let me say it outright: I want you to fuck me."

Harry groaned at those words, his blood finally boiling over and he shoved Snape sideways, rolling them around until Severus lay on his back, dangerously close to the edge of the bed. What followed was a frantic blur of licks, kisses, nips and rough bites as Harry worked his way downwards. Harry finally pulled Severus' trousers down, with eager help from the man himself, then took the head of Snape's cock into his mouth without preamble. Snape hissed again, that sharp sound Harry had come to associate with his pleasure and Harry sucked frantically, working more of the length down his throat. The book had said to relax his jaw and throat, yet his gag reflex still set in before he could take the whole of Severus. He continued bobbing his head up and down, loving the taste of Severus on his tongue, before he finally surfaced. Severus head was thrown back and he was panting, sweat glistening on his body. When Harry removed his mouth and continued teasing strokes with his hand, Severus' brain finally registered the change and he looked up, eyes wide and hair dishevelled. Such an wonderful, undignified picture, that Harry discretely rubbed his prick against the sheets.

"Do you- Should I make you come like this-" Harry underlined the sentence with a lick to Severus' slit, "Or would you rather come later?"

Snape gulped and blinked, obviously having trouble processing the question. "Later," he rasped out, his normally so smooth voice now rough with lust. "I'm not sure I can come twice this evening."

Harry nodded, and gave the prick a parting lick before he nuzzled his way downwards. Then, he took a moment to rearrange their positions- he parted Snape's legs and settled between them. As he lay down on his belly, his own prick grateful for the friction, he draped them over his arms, as he used to do with Ginny. This was very much different- Severus' leg were endless in comparison, towering over Harry. He felt small, but as he applied gently pressure, they lifted a bit, spreading Severus to Harry's hungry gaze. He caught sight of the tiny pucker for the first time. Severus' feet settled somewhere next to Harry's back.

Harry gave the smooth sac a lick, nibbling and sucking at Severus' testicles, while one of his hands massaged the flesh behind. According to the book, it was supposed to be pleasurable, though Harry hadn't had the chance to try it himself. Judging by the breathy gasps and moans from above, he was doing alright, though. He gave the straining prick another quick lick, which drew a surprised gasp from Severus. "Have you got any lubricant?"

There was a spell for that, too, but somehow Harry didn't feel comfortable using magic on his partner during sex. Disentangling his legs from around Harry, Snape rolled around clumsily and grabbed at his nightstand, rummaging in it drawer, then presenting Harry with a small glass jar, not unlike those they used for their Potion samples in class. Harry thought in fond exasperation that Severus probably brewed it himself.

Snape settled down again, though this time Harry hurriedly stuffed a pillow under Snape's hips. Another tip from the book. Snape raised an eyebrow at him and shifted. Harry stilled him with a hand and a quick kiss to the lips before he turned his attention southward again. He took a glob of lubricant and spread it across the crease, before massaging the puckered opening with his index finger.

"Good?" Harry asked, unwilling to take any chances. Severus nodded licked his lips. "Do it, Harry," he urged, his tone strained. Harry pushed and his finder slid into such a tight, wet heat that his prick twitched in sympathy. It was hot, and moist and soft and so much better than anything he had ever felt with Ginny. He moved his finger in and out experimentally, fascinated with the sight of his knuckles disappearing into Snape's body, which willingly took them. Thinking Severus was accommodating well, Harry added another. He probed upwards, deeper, until Snape hissed and said "There!" in a tone that indicated Harry had caught more than just the Snitch. Trying hard to memorize the angle, Harry continued stroking the prostate, watching in awe as Snape writhed on the bed, now pulling his legs to his chest, holding them with his hands, baring himself completely to Harry. When he finally added the third finger, Snape gasped. Harry stilled his movement, rubbing Snape's cock apologetically. When the pressure seemed to lessen, Harry began moving his fingers again, gently, watching Snape's face for any sign of pain.

"Enough," Severus barked out, his eyes finally opening. "I'm ready." Harry gulped, finally allowing himself to acknowledge his own need. With a hand still wet with lube, he touched his own erection and positioned it carefully.

"Angle up," Snape said, shifting his hips slightly and Harry obeyed. With a steadying breath and a reassuring look at Snape, he couldn't wait any longer and pushed. First nothing happened, then Snape twitched, Harry bore down stronger and suddenly, his cockhead had slipped in, moving past the first ring of muscles. Snape let out a throaty moan and Harry slowed, breathing heavily, all of his self-control focused on not coming, not plunging in, but moving very, very slowly, in, in, in, sliding down, his arms trembling on both sides of Severus' waist as he held himself and then _there, _he was in, buried deep inside Severus, his own balls touching the man's arse.

Harry looked Severus' in the eye and waited, while the man breathed heavily. "Been a while," he gasped finally, and Harry pressed a kiss against his sternum, shuddering as it caused his prick to move.

"Never done it before," he answered, his own voice hoarse and deep. "Alright?"

Snape took a deep breath, then exhaled, long and slow. The pressure clamping down on Harry's prick seemed to lessen slightly.

"Yes," Severus said, twitching, his endlessly long, pale legs wrapping themselves around Harry's waist. "Now move!"

Harry chuckled, then obeyed.

It was glorious and messy and his loins made obscene noises as his pelvis hit against Severus arse, while the speed of their thrusts increased. A firm grip on Severus' thighs, Harry at some point realized he was pulling Snape towards him with each thrust, angling until finally, he found Snape's prostrate. Harry concentrated on his goal to hit it as many times as possible to distract himself from the pressure building in his balls and not coming yet, just a little bit longer. "Severus," Harry gasped, speeding up once again, scrunching his eyes shut just after he saw Snape reach for his own prick. Harry slammed in, feeling himself shuddering inside Snape as orgasm claimed him. Some moments and frantic hand movements later, he heard Severus groan madly and the spasms around his twitching prick told him Snape had probably come, too.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and Snape stretched his legs, pulling Harry close to his chest. Harry lay there, boneless and unable to think.

"Uh," he said finally, realizing he was still sheathed inside Severus. He pulled his soft prick out easily, whereas Severus used a cleaning charm on them. Harry sprawled again, laying halfway on Snape's chest, who pulled him closer. Harry hummed his approval. The lights darkened, and Harry sighed contentedly. "Good," he finally mumbled into Severus neck. He felt Severus adam's apple bob as he answered. "Indeed." For some reason, it was the funniest answer Snape could have given him, so Harry started sniggering uncontrollably, his lax muscles twitching pathetically.

"What is it?" He felt Severus shifting slightly away to look down at him. Harry squinted up, but couldn't see anything. "Harry?" Severus' voice tensed. Harry nuzzled his neck. "It's nothing," he said, pressing a soothing kiss on Snape's jugular vein. "I'm just happy."

"Mh, post-coital endorphins," Snape mused in a satisfied tone.

Harry looked up again. "What?" He sniggered. "I'm just happy to be with you."

"That's what I- oh, never mind."

"Was it," Harry hesitated, "Alright for you? I mean, is there anything I could do better next time?"

Severus smirked at him, then kissed the crown of his head. "It was acceptable. We'll work on the details."

"Acceptable?" Harry laughed, his tone outraged. "Excuse me?"

Snape's smirk turned wider. "Well, it only means that we will have to do this again. Until you get it right. And knowing your abysmal learning-skills, we may have to practise very often."

"Alright," Harry amended, mollified. "It was acceptable for me, too."

Severus stretched, then disengaged Harry from his chest. He turned around and lay on his belly, grasping his pillow. Harry waited until he settled, then scooted nearer, draping an arm over Severus' waist. "Alright?"

Severus nodded. Harry closed his eyes and smiled.

* * *

><p>Enjoy. Concrit is appreciated.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Hello again. I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting, but my life has been unbelievably stressfull these few months- I have very important exams coming up and, dare you believe it, have someone in my life who now occupies my evenings. And frankly, there are things that are much, much better than writing fanfic to do in the nightime ;)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it anyway. There won't be anything coming up soon, I can tell you that, but in approximately two months this hell will be over and then I'll have some more time. Have fun!

* * *

><p>Harry sat gloomily and thoughtful on the windowsill, gazing out onto the lake. The attempt to wheedle the memory out of Slughorn had been an unmitigated disaster. And since there was only so many times one could hear Hermione say 'I told you so', he had retreated to their quarters after dinner.<p>

Snape entered their quarters, about a dozen parchment rolls under his arm. He glanced up at Harry and scowled darkly. Harry swallowed. He had not forgotten that Dumbledore had instructed him to tell Snape as little as possible- that Snape was not to know. It was not without a certain irony, Harry mused, that now, finally, that Snape had declared his allegiance to the light, that Dumbledore started to withhold information from him. He could understand that Severus was furious.

There was a moment of silence as Snape settled down in front of the fire, as usual, for his post-dinner marking session. Harry continued his pensieve gazing. Maybe he should attend one of those horrible parties, maybe it would soften the man up-

"How did it go?" Severus asked abruptly. Harry suppressed a smirk.

"Fine. Dumbledore gave me a task," he said, staring out at a few younger students emerging from greenhouse two. From up here, they were about the size of ants. Harry touched a finger to the cold glass and shivered. Dusk was approaching outside. "Though I think I might have messed up a bit."

"I hope for our all sake that you are applying yourself more than in our Occlumency lessons," Snape grumbled. That stung. Even more so in the light of his recent failure.

"I'm doing my best," he answered scathingly, finally turning away from the window and gazing at Snape, who had his back to him. "And it's not like you were the perfect teacher, what with all the shouting. Besides, Dumbledore reckons Voldemort will keep clear of my head now-"

"DON'T say his name," Snape hissed angrily. "Arrogant twit!"

"What's your problem?" Harry demanded, standing up and walking up to the hearth, into the light and faced Severus. "Look, it's not my fault Dumbledore said you can't know what we're talking about-"

"My problem is that I am married to an arrogant little snot, who puts himself constantly into danger, without thinking of the consequences and thinks that his luck will get him out each and every time."

"I am not arrogant!" Harry felt angrier with Snape than he had in a long time. He thought Snape had finally understood, finally seen him as him-

"Of course you are! Flaunting about the castle, walking about the grounds alone and unsupervised, throwing the Dark Lord's name around as though it was some kind of triviality, without even a modicum of respect-"

"Respect?" Harry thought he must have misheard. "That bastard killed my parents and you want me to _respect _him?" He felt his hands tremble and saw Snape's eyes flash in the firelight. His mouth was set in a thin, tight line and Harry could barely believe it was the same that had given him such pleasure the night before.

"You think you can but hold a candle to him, _boy?_" Severus hissed at him, the scrolls rolling from his lap, forgotten. "The Dark Lord would skin you in seconds!"

"Well, he hasn't yet," Harry retorted, though he knew that was a weak argument. Snape sneered at him and he hurriedly continued."I know I'm not as powerful as him, or as smart- I'm not even as smart as Hermione, or you- But he hasn't killed me yet and Dumbledore has a plan-"

"'_Dumbledore has a plan_'" Snape mocked him and his tone reminded Harry so much of Bellatrix that he actually felt the hair on his neck stand up in disgust. "So, is that it, Potter? Going to hide in a greater man's scheme? Wise move, and yet you pretend to be his equal, challenging him with every word-"

"He murdered my parents!" Harry roared. "He took them away from me! D'you think I _wanted _this? Any of this?" He waved an irate hand, encompassing all of his life. "What do you want me to do, then? Run and hide from him? Or would you rather I crawl at his feet and kiss his robes, like his faithful little Death Eater _scum-" _Harry saw Snape's nostrils flare in fury and felt a stab of sick satisfaction. "and grovel at his feet?"

Snape rose from his chair, dark and menacing. "Potter-" he started and that, more than anything, hurt Harry. "It is a fools errand. You cannot best the Dark Lord. And it would be best if you acknowledge the fact now, before it is to late."

"So you reckon I should give up?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I suggest you learn some _humility,_" Severus said, anger still suffusing his words. "And realize exactly which magnitude the forces you are dealing with are."

"I know that," Harry growled.

"Do you?" Snape scoffed. "If you truly did, you would not dare to use the Dark Lord's name!"

"I will not give him the satisfaction!"

"This is not about you pathetic pride- It's time you learnt your place, boy!"

"Oh, he tried to teach me that," Harry seethed. "_Voldemort._" Snape flinched.

"In the graveyard, two years ago. He wanted me to beg. Put the Imperius on me and tried to force me to plead for mercy. I didn't do what he wanted me to then and I am not starting now."

"Very impressive, Potter. So you have learned to throw off an Unforgivable. Yet the Diggory boy still died."

Now it was Harry's time to flinch. "I know that! I know it's not enough, I- I know he will kill me, alright? Probably. Eventually. I really don't need you to remind me! But if- I'm not going down doing what he wants me to. I refuse to- to- let him make me! I won't."

Harry realized he had raised his voice. His breathing was laboured and he wiped his brow, suddenly self-conscious under Snape's heavy stare. "I won't," he said again, as firmly as he could.

"Foolish boy," Snape said, softly, but Harry had enough. Bitterly, he thought that this was not how he had imagined this evening to go. In his fantasies, there had been no yelling, no talk of his death. But obviously, it was not meant to be.

He lay on his side in bed, staring at the dark. He saw himself again, in the graveyard, Voldemort raised his wand, his red eyes glinting maliciously- and then he died. He imagined his body falling lifeless to the ground in a flash of green, his eyes as empty as Cedric's had been- was that what Snape saw, every time he thought of Harry's future? A sharp pain twisted in Harry's chest, and he pulled his knees higher. Bitterness welled up in him. He was inadequately suited for the task, despite everything. Yet he knew he had to try. It had to be him- Voldemort had marked him as his equal and neither can live while the other survives. Harry choked quietly and tried to draw a deep breath, but his throat refused to cooperate.

"Harry?" The bed dipped behind him and he turned his head reflexively. Snape was looking at his with a worried expression and just a hint of guilt. Harry turned his head back.

"Goodnight, Snape."

Silence. Then Snape shifted and Harry thought he heard him open his mouth. First nothing, then a sigh.

"Harry, I- I did not mean to cause you distress." The words sounded painfully stilted and Harry snorted derisively.

"It's fine. Goodnight."

"Harry." Harry concentrated on breathing. Slow, regular breaths. In and out. Slowly. "Harry. Look at me, please."

Not knowing how to refuse without seeming utterly childish and petulant, Harry rolled over on his back. Snape was propped up on one elbow, his chest bare. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch Harry's arm. Harry flinched away.

"You don't have to do this." Snape whisked his arm back, hurt flitting across his face. Harry flicked his gaze towards the tapestry above him.

"Do what?"

"Touch me. Be with a dead man. 'Cause that's what I am to you, right?" Harry laughed, but the sound barely made it past the blockage in his throat. "Or is this pity? Want to get the Boy Who Lived a fuck while you still can?"

Damn, it hurt. As though a cramp had sealed off his airways. "I'm not stupid. _Neither can live while the other survives, _and the odds are against me. I know that." He drew a deep breath. Snape seemed to be frozen next to him.

"But I have to try, right? Even, even if-" Air eluded him again. Snape's scrutiny was too much and he rolled around again, fighting silently with his lungs for them to expand, damn it- he was getting dizzy, he vision was blurring-

"No! Harry, no-" And there was a strong, hot arm, clamping around his chest, pulling him back and Severus was clinging to him, his face in the crook of Harry's neck. Harry grabbed his arm and held on, gripping so tightly it must have hurt. To his horror, he felt a sob rising in his throat, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. When it escaped his lips he felt the horrible tightness of his chest loosen, instead contractions were rocking him, and he gasped again and again, forcing much needed oxygen down his airways. Snape was rocking him, holding him tight, small soothing movements back and forth and his neck was wet were Severus was still hiding his face-

"I will not let you die," Snape's voice was muffled and Harry barely heard him over the sounds of his own laboured breathing. "I will not let you die, do you hear me!" Now Snape shook him, forcing Harry to look at him. His black eyes were hard to discern, but they were deep and slightly crazed.

"You will defeat him! You will accomplish whatever task Albus has set for you and then you will face the Dark Lord. And I will be with every single step of the way. And then the snake-loving abomination will die. Do you understand me, Potter?" He shook Harry again, his gaze burning into Harry's. "Do you understand me?"

Dimly, Harry was aware of the small droplets of spit that speckled his face. "Y- Yes." His breathing slowed, the small voice inside his voice that was telling that just because that was what Severus _wanted _to happen, didn't mean that it actually _would, _slowly fading. Then- "I like snakes, too."

For a moment, Severus looked down at him, perplexed. Then his feature s dissolved into a painful grimace and he barked a laugh. He buried his face against Harry's shoulder, shuddering. Harry cupped his head absently and waited for him to calm. When Snape's breathing was less erratic, he got his left arm from under Snape and, putting it around him, gently pushed him lower until Snape's head was pillowed on his chest. Snape wrapped an arm around him. Harry, in turn, grasped his arm again, and threaded the other into Severus' long hair. And held on.

* * *

><p>Rain was pelting down, but Harry did his best to ignore it as he whizzed past the stands, on lookout for the snitch. He circled the pitch, behind the Gryffindor hoops that Ron was guarding faithfully, then across the stands. The commentary was hard to hear over the roar of the wind, but from the snatches Harry heard, Gryffindor was leading by a few scores. He was freezing, stiff and annoyed with his glasses and wanted the game to end. As he soared above the game, he saw the Ravenclaw seeker nearly blow against the stands, barely managing to keep her broom under control. Still, no sign of the snitch.<p>

Dimly, he heard the roar of the crowd as the Ravenclaw Chasers shot towards the goalposts in tight formation. He circled the pitch once more, his Firebolt fighting against the wind. So far, the team was prevailing bravely, but they couldn't last much longer in this weather. Harry quietly swore to himself as he avoided a bludger.

"Get a move on, Harry!" Ron yelled at him as he passed the goalhoops again.

"I'm trying," Harry bellowed back, but he doubted Ron heard him. Keeping an eye on the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry sped upwards, circling the game from above and watched as Ravenclaw scored. A flurry of movement caught his attention- the Ravenclaw Seeker had moved. Harry sped after him, furiously looking for what had caught his attention. They sped towards the ground, Harry rapidly gaining- There! He accelerated even more- Thompson wasn't feinting, the Snitch was hovering near the foot of the Slytherin stands. Harry urged his broom forward, the cold rain pelting his skin, the roar of the wind louder than everything else. Thompson and him were now neck to neck, the Snitch flitting about nervously- then it veered upwards and Harry pulled up sharply, his toes hitting the wall of the stands. Thompson was good, still there next to him, Harry could see the tight grip the seventh year had on the handle of his broom. And yet, Harry was faster, he stretched his arm, fingers grasping-

They shot above the stands together, Harry holding his hand victoriously over his head- The crowd roared, the Gryffindors mad, waving and cheering, but already scampering to leave the stands and the pouring rain. All the other houses didn't even bother, the stands already emptying. Shivering, Harry shot downwards.

"B-b-brilliant, Harry!" Ron slapped Harry on his back, teeth chattering as they reached the ground and ran for the changing rooms. Once inside, the whole of the Gryffindor team fell into the celebratory group hug. Harry whooped, releasing the Snitch, which whizzed around the changing room. Someone turned on all the showers and soon steam filled the cabin. Harry shoved a laughing Ron under the stream of water, still laughing as he coughed around a mouth full of water.

Stripping under the shower, he chucked his wet robes at Coote, their newest Beater and could hardly believe life was anything but good.

They made their noisy ascent to the Gryffindor common room, where they were greated by a loud roar. Harry had barely entered the common room when a bottle of butterbeer was pressed into his hand and Romilda Vane pulled him onto a couch.

"Congratulations, Harry," she purred, batting her eyelashes at him. Harry noticed she wore heavy mascara, something Ginny never had bothered with.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, taking a long gulp out of his bottle, the butterbeer warming him just so.

"That was really amazing what you did out there," she purred, pressing herself along Harry's side. Harry tried to discretely budge away.

"Er, thanks," he said, taking a nervous swig out of his bottle. "The team played really well, though, too."

"Harry!" Hermione breezed over and pulled him in a hug, unceremoniously disturbing Romilda's personal space. The girl leaned out of the way as Harry pulled Hermione closer, laughing.

As they separated, Hermione pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's go over to the others!"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said in a low voice as the hurried towards the group around Angelina and Katie, who where reliving some of their better passes during the game.

Hermione clinked her bottle against Harry's. "Some people just can't take a hint," she said archly. Harry grinned at her.

In the corner, Seamus began singing raucously and Harry joined in when he recognized a muggle song. The party went on, until someone set off a set of fireworks. Many people fled shrieking to their dormitories as the fiery dragons and comets whizzed overhead. Ron fell off his armchair, laughing as Cormac McClaggen fell smack on his face as he tripped over an empty bottle.

Finally, only the sixth and seventh years remained, as well as a fifth year girlfriend.

"To sex, drugs and rock and roll!" Seamus roared, raising his bottle, causing giggles across the remaining crowd.

"Sex, Quidditch and Rock and Roll!" Harry amended, sprawling in front of the fireplace. He had lost count of how many butterbeers he had, but it couldn't have been much more than five. Or six. The fifth year girl giggled again from under the arm of her boyfriend and Hermione gave him a good-natured shove.

"I'm glad you have your priorities sorted," A silky voice sounded across the room and Harry jumped so much that he nearly fell into the fireplace. The fifth year squealed as Snape emerged from the shadows near the portrait hole.

"S-Sev!" Harry tried to scramble to his feet, but since Ron was resting his head across them and Hermione was leaning on his chest, it was proving difficult.

"No need to get up, Mr Potter," Snape purred when Harry finally disentangled himself. "Your pet was getting restless." Snape stretched out his arm and presented Leila, who was coiled around it.

"Hello," Harry hissed, vaguely aware of Angelina's mouth falling open at the sound. Leila smoothly glided over to his arm and Harry pressed his forehead against hers gently. "Are you alright?"

_Yes. Are you? Your mate woke me up and carried me here. _

A startled laugh escaped Harry. "Yeah, I'm fine." He gave Snape a sly grin. "Do you think he wants me to come home?" He noticed Snape shifting his weight from one onto the other foot.

_I neither know nor care. _Leila sounded disgruntled. She arched towards the fire, causing Seamus to flinch away. _I was having a good dream._

"Snake fetish," Ron remarked from his comfortable position on the floor. Harry gave him the finger and Ron laughed.

"Congratulations on Gryffindors win," Snape said, eyeing the bundle of people lying on around the fireplace. "Perhaps it is time for the victorious players to retire." They all scrambled to their feet, muttering their excuses and good-nights. Dean winked at Harry and mouthed 'Have fun' when Snape wasn't looking. Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry's blush.

"Were you watching?" Harry asked Severus as they exited the portrait hole.

"All Quidditch matches are, unfortunately, mandatory," Severus answered stiffly and Harry grinned.

"So you wouldn't have shown up otherwise?" He asked teasingly. Severus huffed. "Naturally not. Quidditch is an atrocious game with an unsensibly high injury rate."

Harry guffawed, not really listening. "So what was Leila doing anyway that you had to bring her over?" Harry asked in his best innocent voice.

"She was slithering to and fro in front of the fire," Severus lied smoothly. If Harry hadn't known he was lying, he would never had known. "I suspected she missed you, thus I brought her."

"Aha," Harry said non-committally, stroking Leila. "Really. And here I thought was you who missed me."

"Well, you do have the merit of keeping the bed warm."

"Really? Is that the only thing I'm good for?"

"When you put your mind to it, you can be very handy at tidying my possesions."

"Oh, stop it, you. You're making me blush."

"I'd say," Snape dead-panned. "It's not every day I so readily hand out compliments." He opened the office door and gestured for Harry to precede him. "While I officially did not notice any of the empty bottles in your common room, may I inquire how much you had to drink?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said cheerfully, flopping down on the sofa, on leg dangling over the armrest. "Not much, just butterbeer."

"I see. Given your affinity to alcohol, even butterbeer should suffice."

"Yep," Harry agreed cheerfully, helping Leila down to the hearth.

"Marvelous. However, in the spirit of scientific enquiry, I do wonder-" Harry looked at Snape at the change of tone. He saw Snape's eyes glittering at him and suddenly felt very warm. He gulped when Severus advanced and leaned over him, bracing his arms on the couch. For a moment, Severus simply looked at him, their faces inches apart, Harry's breath coming in short little huffs, then Severus leaned down and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. It started out gentle enough, but then turned hungry as Snape pressed Harry into the sofa, tongue plundering as though determined to gauge the amount of alcohol imbibed by residue from Harry's mouth.

When they broke apart, Harry was breathing heavily, his hands buried in Snape's hair. He jumped when Snape cupped him through his trousers.

"Still in working order," Snape purred and rubbed, causing Harry to harden further.

"Why, were you worried?" Harry asked breathlessly. Severus hummed, his lips almost brushing Harry's, yet not quite touching.

"I was wondering wherever you wanted to have a proper celebration tonight," Severus murmured and Harry felt his words against the skin of his cheek. "I have taken the liberty of preparing myself before it occurred to me my efforts might have been for naught." Snape inhaled in Harry's hair, rubbing his nose against the messy strands.

"Prepared?" Harry asked, his voice deeper than usual, almost hoarse. Severus' hand kept up the leisurely, light rubbing, entirely too distracting.

"Hm," Severus purred into Harry's hair. "I have cleansed myself, so to speak. I find it can cause the resulting the sensations to be more- intense. And it is less likely to produce a mess."

"What do you mean cleansed- Oh!" Harry felt his blood rush downward. "You- you- you want me to top again?"

"It would bring me great pleasure," Severus moved to Harry's ear and began playing with it, gently, using only his lips.

"Oh," Harry said breathlessly, losing track for a moment. "I- I liked it, too, last time, it's just- wouldn't you like to top? I- I mean," Harry fumbled for words, Severus' caresses utterly unhelpful,

"-I'd like to bottom with you. Sometime. If- if you like. If you'd- um. You know. Want to."

Snape moved to Harry's neck, pressing dry kisses to Harry's overheated skin. "Oh, I'd like to, Harry. I'd like to bury myself in your tight, hot arse until you come screaming my name." Harry gulped.

"But not tonight." Something about Snape's tone caught Harry's attention, yet Snape still seemed busy kissing Harry's neck.

"Tomorrow?" Harry asked hopefully. Personally, he'd prefer today, but Snape seemed set on that.

"We will have a talk tomorrow," Snape said carefully. "If you still wish me to proceed then, you shall get your wish. For now-" Severus leaned up again, gazing down at Harry. "Shall we retire to the bedroom?"

"Yes, we shall," Harry croaked and let Severus pull him to his feet. Some time later, when Snape lowered himself onto Harry's cock and Harry thrust up into him, there was nothing in his world except Harry and the man he loved.

Severus waited for Harry to return from breakfast. He looked out of the windows behind Harry's desk. He exhaled, trying to calm the roiling in his stomach. And so his happiness must end once more. Harry would hate him, again. It was all Severus could do was cling to the hope that Harry would forgive him. But he could not honestly keep denying Harry to take their relationship further before he had not told Harry the truth. Because Harry would one day know it. Someone would tell him who exactly was responsible for his parents death. And if Harry ever heard this from someone else than him, there would e no going back. And for the first time in many years, Severus actually wanted something to work on the long term.

Behind Severus, the door opened.

"Hey!" Severus closed his eyes and touched the cool glass one last time as he heard Harry come up behind him. When he felt the hand at the small of his back, he turned around, covertly avoiding the touch.

"Lets sit;" he said, gesturing towards the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Harry's smile faltered. "Is something wrong?"

"We have to talk,"Snape said, settling down in his own chair, facing Harry.

"I have something to tell you." He watched as Harry's face lost all of it's previous cheerfulness.

"Has something happened?" Harry asked, fear clouding his voice.

"No," Severus hastened to placate the boy's worries. "No, nothing has happened. There is simply something I must tell you- about my past."

Harry nodded. "Alright," he said cautiously.

Severus took a deep breath. "You are aware of the the prophecy made about you and the Dark Lord," he began with a feeling of dread. So here it was. He was sealing his own fate. Anticipation tingled down his spine. "Do you know who made that prediction?"

Harry nodded, still wary. "Yeah. Trelawney. Hard to believe."

Severus nodded. "Yes. When she made the prediction-" He stopped again, unsure of how to phrase it. "At the time I was still a follower of the Dark Lord. Even there, I was somewhat of an outcast- I was young, having taken the Dark Mark only months before. I was more than a year older than you are. Perhaps two. The Dark Lord had me brewing potions, experimenting with dark magic and ingredients I could have never gotten my hands on otherwise. It was through his connections that I could attain my Mastery. It would have been unaffordable to me otherwise. And even then, I was a spy. I listened for him at doorways, around corners, watching through the windows what his enemies were doing." Harry was listening, eyes wide. As Snape paused, Harry swallowed and blinked.

"That- that doesn't sound so bad," he said in a small voice.

"Perhaps not, in comparison." Snape took a deep breath. "One night, the Dark Lord ordered me to investigate who Albus Dumbledore would hire as the new Divination Professor and determine wherever or not that person would be a threat to our cause."

Harry sat motionless, only his eyes following Severus as he leaned forward, determined to keep looking at Harry. "On that night, I bribed the bartender at the Hogs Head to tell me where and when the headmaster would be meeting his applicant. And I snuck upstairs and listened to Trelawney, to my delight and horror, I heard her make the prediction that there would be one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. I listened, and immediately reported back to the Dark Lord."

Harry's eyes were now impossibly wide behind his round glasses. He sat there, frozen, while Severus forced himself to resume his horrible tale.

"And then he targeted Lily." Severus could no longer bear Harry's unmoving gaze, so much like his mother's- "I loved her," he whispered brokenly. To his chagrin, he felt moisture pool in his eyes, but it was of no consequence. The horror in the boy's eyes spoke volumes. "I pleaded with the Dark Lord to spare her- he laughed and crucioed me in return. So I turned to Dumbledore. I begged him to protect Lily, all of you if he must, to keep you safe- The headmaster asked me what I would do in return for her protection. That night, I swore myself to the order. I vowed to do anything I could to keep them safe. It was not enough. I failed Lily."

Silence. Horrible, crippling silence. Severus wrenched his gaze from the floor from where it had fallen to and forced himself to look at Harry. The boy hadn't moved. Then, a tremor went through him and he slowly stood. Severus watched in apprehension as his right hand slowly went to his robes. "You." Harry voice was hoarse and disbelieving. "You killed my parents."

Severus felt his face screw up at the accusation. "Yes," he whispered. "I am responsible for their deaths. But, Harry," He gazed up at Harry's face, desperate, reaching out with one hand- Harry jerked away violently. "Don't touch me!" Harry's voice was higher and more ragged than Snape had ever heard it. Snape let his hand fall back down, defeated.

"As you wish," he said hoarsely. "But I beg of you, Harry, to believe me, that betraying your parents is the single greatest regret I have. If I could trade my life for you mothers, I would."

Harry laughed, the sound bitter. "But not for my father's life?" Severus cringed. Harry laughed again, choking slightly on the sound. "I thought so. And you- and I- we- we had- and I thought-"

"Forgive me, Harry," Snape whispered.

Harry choked, his face reddening and he seemed to be unable to draw breath. Concerned, Severus reached out again, hoping to somehow calm the young man-

"DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU MURDERER!"

A trembling wand-tip was inches from Severus' face before it was whisked away and Harry ran from the room. Severus sat there frozen, staring at the door in silence.

Hours later, he was roused from his thoughts by a knock to his door. Lowering the brandy sifter, he gazed at the door to his office accusingly. "Yes?"

The door cracked open and the cavalry appeared, in form of the bushy haired Granger girl and the red-headed Weasley. "Professor Snape?"

"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley," Snape answered, not bothering to stand. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded dead.

"Professor, have you seen- Are you alright?" Granger's concerned voice drifted through the room.

"I am fine, Miss Granger. If you are looking for your friend, he is not here."

"Oh. Do you know where he went? We didn't see him at dinner-" She had that carefully monitored tone that suggested to Severus that they had looked everywhere, but were unable to find him.

"He has not told me where he was going. He left our quarters this morning and has not returned since."

"Professor, did- did something happen?" Finally, Snape lowered himself to actually look at his visitors. The two students were standing closer than he had anticipated, Granger looking concerned, Weasley curious.

"That is none of you business, Miss Granger. Is there anything else?"

He watched the two of them exchange a look, Weasley nodding slightly. Then Granger turned back to face him. "Actually, sir, Harry has borrowed my notes on Transfiguration and I really need them back to complete my essay-"

"I will not allow you to rifle through another pupil's possessions while he is absent," Snape snapped, for the first time in this conversation feeling something akin to annoyance.

"But sir, this is really important! And you know Harry, he wouldn't mind if I take them back, he trusts me!" Her imploring gaze bored into Snape's and he heaved a sigh, getting up for the first time in hours.

"Very well."

Snape stood over them as the girl quickly shuffled through the stacks of parchment on the desk, then bent down to open Harry's school-bag. Further shuffling ensued and Snape huffed in annoyance, wishing she would finally steal what she really wanted and leave.

"Got it!" She said finally, holding up a stack of parchment. Snape eyed them critically, failing to comment on how they were written in Potter's handwriting and seemed to concern location charms rather than Transfiguration.

"Very well," he said, gesturing towards the door. "You know the way out." Feeling unsteady, he made his way back to his armchair. Behind him, there was a moment of silence, then the hurried shuffling of feet as the Gryffindors exited the room.

Harry didn't return to his rooms that night. Dutifully, he sent a house-elf to check on the Gryffindor Tower. After the small creature informed Severus that that was indeed where Harry was and that he safe in his friends' company, Severus went to bed. He didn't even try to pretend he wasn't bothered by the empty side of the bed and lay there, gazing at the ceiling. His life had never been cheerful even at its best, but now, after just a few weeks of contentment and a few precious moments of bliss, the downward spiral seemed all the more harsh. All that was left was the tiny glimmer of hope that somehow, Harry would prove more forgiving than his mother once had. Even if Snape knew he didn't deserve it.

After a fitful night Severus appeared at breakfast as usual, the familiar feeling of depression hovering around him like a rain cloud. He sat in his usual place, scanning the table for the wild black hair, or perhaps Granger's bushy hairdo. Severus lowered himself into his chair, squashing the twinge of worry he felt as he came to the conclusion all of the trio was, in fact, absent. The castle was safe, after all and- yes, Draco was at breakfast. No harm would come to him.

And yet, when Snape saw the trio entering the hall, talking quietly, he felt a surge of relief. As he watched Harry's pale face, their eyes met for a moment, then Harry quickly looked away. Granger followed Harry's gaze, staring at Snape, her expression unreadable. Idly, Severus wondered how much Harry had told them Wherever he was ashamed to admit he had slept with the would-be murderer of his parents, maybe even lov- no.

There was nothing left of the doe-eyes Harry used to make at him when he was feeling unobserved. Instead, the boy sat down with his back firmly turned towards Snape. His friends lowered themselves protectively on both his sides. Severus continued eating, though the food now tasted like old parchment.

"Are you feeling well, Severus?" Minerva asked him from across the table. Almost habitually, Snape scowled at her.

"Fine, Minerva, thank you for asking. I do hope you are well yourself," he said smoothly, avoiding the Headmaster's searching gaze. "If you will excuse me, I have lessons to prepare."

Severus left the hall as swiftly as he gauged he could without drawing any attention to himself. He strode through the halls, students jumping out of the way when they saw him. Snape cursed under his breathe. This was exactly why he shouldn't have gotten so involved with the boy, he had known it would happen and yet- still Severus couldn't bring himself to regret it.

Finally, he reached his office and sat down heavily in front of his desk, stomach churning uncomfortably. What had he expected? That the boy forgave him and came running back before even a full day had passed? Severus ran a weary hand over his face, then turned towards his notes.


End file.
